


Such Things

by baixue88



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road, mad max - Fandom
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Ambiguous Relationships, Biting, Childbirth, Developing Relationship, Disturbing Themes, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Grooming, Internal Conflict, Miscarriage, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Postpartum Depression, Pregnancy, Prequel, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Tension, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage Prostitution, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 20,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baixue88/pseuds/baixue88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wife's tale, told in segments of exactly 100 words each.</p><p>Takes place approximately 5 years before the events of MMFR.</p><p>Warning: Everything in the tags could be potentially triggering. This fic deals with some very dark themes, especially surrounding sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

> _“The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt_  
>  _and it stayed so clean while he dragged me through the dirt._  
>  _Now, honey, don't trust anyone who looks you in the eye_  
>  _don't take any kindness, it's a demand in disguise."_
> 
> \- Deb Talen, ‘Rocks and Water’

 

**Cargo**

           Mint awakens with a jolt. Her hands are bound, and so are her legs, and her head is pounding horribly. Vaguely, she remembers her mother’s ragged cries, and something hitting her on the head.

           She raises her head slightly, looks around. There’s a slaver in the front seat of the car, his head wrapped in a dirty brown mask.

           “Don’t even think about a fight,” he tells her.

           She wasn’t. There’s no point, not now. She just lies there, rocking with the movement of the car. The desert sun is hot on her legs, and she closes her eyes again.

 

**Before**

           She remembers what happened to Rick, but only in bits and pieces. The old man had been travelling with them for ages now, and he was travelling with them as usual when gunfire ripped him in two. He’d never been caught off guard before then.

           The slavers descended on them from both sides of the narrow valley. Old Rick fought as long as he could, but he bled out fast, his iron red staining the sand. Mint ran for Mom, but thick arms wrapped around her waist and something heavy sent lightning through her skull and she knew nothing more.

 

**Mom**

           They have never been apart. Not a single day. She has no memories without Mom in them; her wiry steel grey hair and hard brown skin.

           When Mint was about fourteen, Old Rick came along. When Mom saw his bulge, she gave Mint to him, and so he stayed with them.

           It had hurt at first, but Mint got to like the feeling of his stubble as he licked her breasts. Mom always said it was safe, that she wouldn’t start bleeding till she was older anyway.

            _In the beforetimes,_  Mom said, _they bled at twelve or younger. You’re lucky._

 

**Surrender**

            Rick is dead now. It’s too horrible. She’d have been his girl a while longer; she’d liked him and his dry wit and quick draw.

            “If ever you get caught,” Mom had always said, “just let them do what they want to you. They’ll hurt you less that way.” Then Mom would show Mint the scars all up and down her legs and the stubs where her toes used to be.

            Mint lies very still and says nothing, and neither does the slaver. She searches her mind hard for a last memory of Mom, but everything is grey and fuzzy.

 

**Citadel**

            Voices rise to greet them, gnarled hands claw at the windows. A long shadow falls over the car, and Mint risks a look outside. All she sees are rock walls.

            The frantic, frenzied begging is drowned out by a loud screech of metal on metal, an endless clanging, and then there’s a voice at the window:

            “What’ve you got?”

            “Girl for sale. Inspected her myself. Healthy and intact.”

            The shadow shoots her a glance through the glass and then nods.

            “Bring them up!”

            The clanging begins again. Mint can see the rock walls passing as they rise up into darkness.

 

**Inspection**

            She’s pulled out of the car and carried like a sack over a big man’s shoulder, thumping against his broad back. When they set her down, a bearded man in goggles unties her legs and prods at her innermost places. She squeezes her eyes closed and tries not to cry.

            “He ain't lying; she’s intact. Virgin. Have you bled yet, girlie?”

            She keeps her eyes shut tightly. Shakes her head.

            “No matter; she’ll start bleeding soon enough from the looks of her.”

            “We should bathe her before we bring her to Him.”

            “Why waste water? See what He thinks first.”

 

**Lies**

            She hasn’t been a virgin for six hundred days now, even if she is still ‘intact.’ Rick and his hard cock took care of that. She’d resented Mom for it at first, but Mom didn’t want another mouth to feed, and Mint still hadn’t bled at all. It was easier that way. Over time, she almost came to love him. He took care of her and Mom.

            _Should I tell them?_  she wonders, but then she imagines being thrown from the height of the rock wall and decides she’ll just let them think what they want. Maybe they’ll be kinder.

 

**Immortan**

            He is examining a car: two bodies melded into one and set upon gigantic wheels. He is immense, even from a distance – broad and tall and standing powerful. She doesn’t need to see Him up close to know that this will not be like Old Rick, and her legs buckle beneath her.

            _Just let them do what they want to you._

            _No_ , she thinks, _run. Run!_

            Her legs won’t function. They’re limp as an old hose. She is held by her arms and dragged forward.

            “Immortan,” someone says, “new delivery for you.”

            He turns. His face is a death’s head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Look**

            His gaze weighs her, penetrates her, a gem collector rolling a stone in his hand. She can only look straight back. If she looks away, something terrible may happen. _Never let a snake out of your view_ , Rick told her.

            _Would Mom have looked away?_ She thinks of the scars. _Maybe_.

            “Turn around,” He says.

            Someone’s hand touches her arm, and she remembers the fingers between her legs. “Don’t _fucking_ touch me,” she blurts, jerking away.

            “My apologies, Immortan. She has a mouth on her.”

            His eyes don’t leave hers.

            “Turn,” He repeats, His voice no louder than a breath.

**Turn**

            Mint is still caught by His eyes. They’re cold and hungry and there’s none of the laughing warmth that was once in Old Rick’s.

            _I’ll never see him again_. The realisation hits suddenly, and she glances around, frantic. White faces on every side: staring, curious. She is utterly surrounded, all eyes on her brown body.

            She looks back up at Him, closes her eyes, and turns slowly.

            His gaze is a live wire, tracing down her back and up her arm and across her collarbone and then back down again, brushing across her breasts and finally resting on her womb.

**Bargain**

            “Give him ten gallons.”

            “I want fifteen. Nearly lost my eye, killing her father.”

            _Rick would’ve made a shit dad_ , she thinks, but keeps quiet. She keeps her eyes closed, too, so she doesn’t get trapped in His blue eyes again. If that happens, she might not get another chance to look away.

            “The advertisement was for ten. Bring me another and I’ll consider tipping you.”

            There is some grumbling, but the slaver leaves willingly, footsteps fading.

            _I am worth ten gallons of water_ , thinks Mint. So little, but so much.

            She thinks of Mom's scars. Her mouth is dry.

**Preparation**

            “Where’s my mom?” They are the first words to leave her mouth as the old woman bathes her.

            The woman’s mouth tightens as if in pain. “I don’t know, child. Sit still.”

            They say nothing else. Mint is plunged into warm water. She drinks half of what pours over her, her mouth open greedily.

            She’s dressed in white linens that show off her flat brown stomach and the curve of her hip. Her hair, clean for the first time in years, is pulled back behind her ears in a twisting braid. She has never been dressed so fine, so exposed.

**Rick**

            He found them by the roadside. He pulled up in his car with the red stripe down the middle. Mom’s anxious fingers dug into her arm.

_Girl for a ride._

_Going where?_

           _Anywhere. She’s untouched, and yours every night of the journey._

            The 'journey' lasted two years. It didn’t take long to figure out that Rick didn’t intend to ever drop them off. _Nobody gives up free pussy,_  he laughed when she asked later on, pushing greying hair out of his eyes.

            She’d hated him at first. She’d hated her mother more.

            But at least _he’d_ never have married her.

**Vows**

            “Name?”

            “Mint.” Her mouth is dry again already.

            The Immortan makes a noise inside His mask that might be a snort of laughter. He reaches out and takes her right hand in His. His fingers are meaty and rough.

            “Mint,” He says, “I take you as my wife. You will have me and hold me, love, cherish, and obey me, so long as I see fit.”

            And then she hears a sizzle, and the back of her neck is on fire. She screams. He does not let go of her hand, and the air around them erupts in horrible cheers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Waking**

_Mom is sitting crosslegged, mending broken tools to sell by the roadside. She is singing, low and clear._

            She wakes up in a clean, soft bed surrounded by bright sandstone walls. Light is pouring in from above, and everything is burning.

            “Water,” she gasps, voice hoarse, and a cup is put into her hands. She drains it, and when it’s refilled she drinks it down so fast that she almost chokes.

            “Slowly, slowly,” a voice coos, and for the first time she sees the twin faces in front of her, white eyes set in midnight black skin.

            “Finally, she’s awake.”

 

**Twins**

            The girls are wrapped in identical white sarongs that accentuate their breasts. Their hair is shot through with copper wire that glints in the light as they move.

            “Jedda,” says one.

            “Jarrah,” says the other.

            “But He calls us Left -”

            “- and Right -”

            “-and never keeps it straight.”

            “I’m Mint,” Mint says, “and that’s all He’s called me so far.”

            “He’ll come up with something soon.”

            “Always does.”

            “You’re His new pet.”

            “Pets get nicknames.”

            Mint finishes her water as the Twins question her. She’s too tired to answer most. It doesn’t matter; they still tumble on as if she has.

 

**Fourth**

            There are two more beds in the room, both primly made. One, they tell her, is occupied by another wife, who’s “at the Mechanic.” The other is vacant. Waiting.

            The fourth woman comes in soon, and at her side is the old lady who bathed Mint, helping her as she struggles forward with her heavy, pregnant belly.

            “Just two months to go,” she murmurs, and the Twins bite their lips in unison.

            “Maybe -”

            “- it will live this time.”

            “It has to.”

            “It _will_ ,” the woman says firmly, but she seems unconvinced. She has bags under her blue eyes.

 

**Kindest**

            Then the woman notices Mint.

            “Oh,” she whispers, “you’re awake! How are you?”

            Mint isn’t sure whether to lie or not. “Fine.”

            The pregnant wife struggles over, one hand on her belly and the other extended. “I’m Kindest,” she says.

            “What’s your real name?”

            “Just Kindest.”

            “It’s what He calls her,” says Jarrah.

            “That’s all she needs,” says Jedda.

            Their voices are gentle, but they share a look behind Kindest’s back, the corners of their mouths turned downward.

            Kindest drops her hand when Mint doesn’t take it, and her delicate fingers tug anxiously at the white linens covering her belly.

 

**Beginnings**

            The days pass by quickly.

            Miss Giddy teaches them all together, but the other girls are more advanced. Mint can barely write her name. When she fails her alphabet, she smashes her cup against the wall. A few plates soon follow. The other girls look at her in terror, glancing occasionally towards the giant vault door.

            After a few times, Miss Giddy lets her stay in the bedroom. The old woman’s eyes are sad. Mint sits in bed and tries to forget.

            At night, she dreams of Mom and Rick, and wakes screaming to find herself wrapped in Kindest’s arms.

 

**Breaking**

            “- won’t even try. And won’t stop breaking things.”

            Mint awakes but doesn’t stir, just listening. There is a murmured reply, and then a long silence. She closes her eyes again.

            “Miss Giddy says you won’t do her lessons.”

            The voice makes her start and she sits up fast, eyes wide. The Immortan fills the door with His frame, His breath heavy.

            Mint says nothing.

            “And you won’t stop breaking my things,” He adds, and folds His arms as He watches her, waiting for her to reply. When she doesn’t, He grabs her hands, looks at the pottery-cuts.

            “Very well.”

 

**Glass**

            The next day, the Immortan enters, holding a large hammer in one hand. A slave brings in an old box filled with bottles of every size and colour, as well as a pair of heavy gloves and goggles.

            “Wear these.” The Immortan tosses Mint the goggles and gloves. “Get it out of your system.”

            He hands her the hammer. She takes it, fingers brushing His against the rugged wood.

            She goes to the centre of the room, sets a bottle on the floor, and brings the hammer down on it. Glass splinters, throwing green spots of light on the walls.

 

**Therapy**

            The next day, the other girls move to the far side of the room to get away from her noise. Mint smashes away, listening to the tinkling music as the bottles split apart, until she can no longer lift her arms. Then she sits in the middle of her mess.

            Slowly, on the dusty floor, swirls and patterns begin to emerge, little pieces of glass fitting together into sun and sky and swirls of stars. She doesn’t notice the other girls fall silent. She doesn’t hear the vault door swing open, nor the heavy footfalls.

            “Good,” says the Immortan. “Good.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Nightmares**

_Mom is sitting crosslegged, mending broken tools to sell by the roadside. She is singing, low and clear._

            _Mom, whispers Mint, I think I’m in love with Rick_.

_She sighs and sets down the screwdriver. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just all you know so far._

_He’s a good guy!_

_He’s tolerable. That’s all. There will be others._

_Why should there be others?_

_Because you’re a woman. Mom points to her mangled feet. There’s always gonna be others._

            Mint’s pillow is wet. She feels pressure on the bed beside her, and looks up through the blackness.

            “You were crying,” whispers Kindest.

 

**Settling**

            The Immortan gives Mint a little tin box to keep her shards in. Every night she picks them up, and every day sees a new design. As the days pass, Miss Giddy begins to coax her into trying the alphabet again, and soon she is reading haltingly.

            Some nights, He comes in and sits with them as Kindest plays the piano. The Twins joke back and forth merrily, and it makes Him laugh, but behind His back they clasp one another’s hands and squeeze tight. On those nights, they go away with Him.

            “He takes them together,” Kindest explains, unasked.

 

**Familiar**

             One night, He says He’ll eat dinner with them. A big table is brought in, set with cooked meats and fresh greens and fruits.

            There’s a soft hiss of pressure releasing, and for the first time, He removes His mask. Miss Giddy averts her eyes, but the others don’t react. They’ve seen this face too often.

            Mint just stares. His face is soft with age, but she can see the remainders of a hard jaw, a grim mouth. He glances at her, and the corners of His mouth prick up. She realises with a thrill: He smiles just like Rick.

 

**Names**

            “Mint,” He murmurs her name one day, sitting in the sunlight by the _impluvium_. “Why did your mother name you for a plant?”

            “Not a plant.” Mint is arranging her little shards of glass again, making patterns of colour. He’s watching her intently; she can feel His eyes on her hands. “A little pill. She said it was the most incredible thing she ever tasted.”

            He stands up. “Come.”

            She looks up at Him, startled. “Where?”

            “I want to show you something.”

            For the first time, He unlocks the vault door and swings it open to let her go through.

 

**Green**

            The greenhouse is alive with the smell of wet dirt. There is more green here than Mint has ever seen before, ascending and descending in ripples. The workers step aside, staring, their eyes catching on her bare stomach. A few blush and turn away.

            They step back in waves as the Immortan passes, and she follows in His wake, her eyes on the green. The smell is wet and fresh and her mouth waters at it on instinct. She wants to dig her fingers into the little pots and feel the moisture, but she keeps her hands at her sides.

 

**Mint**

            The Immortan plucks a leaf from one little plant and holds it up before her.

            “Mint,” He tells her, and with His thumb He presses it between her lips. He keeps His thumb there, just between her teeth, and a sharp taste floods her mouth. It burns, but in a pleasant, warm way, clean and bright as the sunshine.

            His thumb is still in her mouth. His palm cups her cheek, rough as sandstone. She is not sure what to do, but her tongue curves instinctively against Him.

            He pulls His hand away. “Bleed soon,” He says.

            It’s a command.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters tonight, I'm on a roll!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Firsts**

_The first time hurts terribly. Rick’s panting and groping repulses her, and afterwards she can hardly walk._

_After it’s over, she creeps to her mother’s bed, lays her head on her lap, and weeps._

_It’ll get easier, Mom promises, smoothing her hair._

_It does. She learns to enjoy his hands, and he teaches her to enjoy herself, too. He shows her the best ways to pleasure him, how to rub him and lick him and suck him. She learns to love the way he moans her name, the look on his hard face as he spills himself on her stomach._

 

**Read**

            “Read to me,” He commands her one evening while Kindest plays the piano.

            “What should I read?”

            “Whatever Miss Giddy’s been teaching you.”

            She fetches her tattered book. _The Boxcar Children_ , it says on the front. She can read it on her own now, though it’s still a struggle.

            “‘One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery ….'”

            “Sit.” He pats His thigh. Mint looks at the others. Their eyes are carefully averted. Kindest keeps playing.

            Mint obeys and sits down stiffly on His lap. His thigh is soft, but His armour is hard against her back.

 

**Stories**

            He puts a hand on her hip, rubbing His thumb in circles.

            “‘No one knew them,’” she reads, trying to ignore the whisper of His mask against her ear. “'No one knew where they had come from ….'”

            She’s almost halfway through Chapter One when she shifts herself a little and suddenly feels a lump in His pants that jumps against her. His breath catches in His throat, and she feels the teeth of the mask brush against her hair.

            Her voice falters. She looks up from the book to meet Kindest’s eyes. Kindest smiles, sweet and sad, and nods.

 

**Touch**

            Mint keeps reading. His hand slides down her outer thigh, rough fingers slipping into the opening of her sarong to stroke her bare skin. He’s tracing more circles up and down her soft flesh.

            As she finishes the chapter, His fingers have wandered back up her inner thigh, edging towards the opening of her underwear. His touch burns, and something deep within her trembles.

            She closes the book and, following some deep, wily instinct, grinds back against Him ever so gently. His breath comes out in a soft  _hiss_.

            “I need more glass,” she tells Him.

            “Yes,” He groans. “ _Yes_.”

 

**Tease**

            He takes the Twins that night. When they return the next morning, they are moving gingerly, trying not to grimace. Their dark arms and legs are smattered with darker purple bruises.

            “You shouldn’t tease Him,” says Jedda.

            “He gets frustrated,” says Jarrah.

            “He _hates_ being frustrated.”

            “Wait till you bleed.”

            “You’ll understand.”

            Mint is standing above a glass bottle, her hammer in her hands. She hands silently it to them, and the two girls take turns smashing the new bottles that were brought in early this morning. Colours fly everywhere. Mint stands and watches, guilt twisting sickly in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming (very) soon! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Excerpts from The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner)


	6. Chapter 6

**Grace**

            The woman is small and boney. Her face was once beautiful, though now it’s been blasted by sand and heat. She is well-dressed for a Wretched: her clothes are whole and she doesn’t carry her home on her back like the others.

            “Teach her to dance. You have three days,” Joe says, gesturing to Mint.

            The woman smirks. “So you _did_ miss me.”

            He glares, but goes out silently and shuts the vault door behind Him.

            The woman looks at Mint, her face hard but her eyes full of pity. “So you’re the new favorite. I’m Mab. Once called Grace.”

           

**Reunions**

            When they see Mab, the others burst into tears almost immediately. They rush her as one, wrapping their arms around her and touching her everywhere to make sure she’s real. Kindest can barely breathe, she is so full of emotion.

            “We thought you were dead,” she keeps repeating. “We thought you were dead!”

            And then Miss Giddy comes in, and the weeping begins afresh. The old woman takes Mab's face in her hands, stroking it, kissing it.

            Mint can only stand back, feeling half awkward and half estranged. She just watches as Kindest wraps her arms around Mab’s emaciated waist.

 

**Outside**

            “How have you survived?” They ask her once they’ve calmed down.

            “I danced before I came here. I dance again. Among…other things.”

            The others look at one another awkwardly.

            “Root Bottom,” Mab says aloud, a bitter smile on her face. “It’s better than any alternative.”

            “Are…are others there?” asks Kindest.

            Mab shakes her head. “Timid was once. But she’s…gone now.”

            Miss Giddy gets up and goes to be alone.

            “Maybe He’ll let you stay on,” Jarrah says.

            “Teach us all,” Jedda adds.

            Mab shrugs and points to Mint. “No, just her. Be grateful. She’ll have _all_ His attention soon enough.”

 

**Demonstration**

            Mab is allowed to stay with them at night, and they stay up talking and reminiscing for long after Mint goes to sleep. She tries to stay awake, to listen, but she doesn’t know half of what they’re talking or laughing or crying about.

            The next morning, lessons begin. Mab goes first as Kindest plays a lively, exotic tune. Mab’s moves are primal, sensual. Each step is an invitation and a denial all in one. Her whole body flows flawlessly, hips swaying like a snake and arms twisting about her torso.

            For a moment, Mint, entranced, forgets why Mab dances.

           

**Lessons**

            Mab starts her off slow, teaching her gentle moves – how to move her hips, twist her shoulders. They dance all day until Mint thinks her feet will fall off, only to continue the next day.

            The lessons don’t get too complicated; Mab focuses only on how to dance for someone else’s pleasure. The Twins act as props for them, sitting in for Joe as Mab demonstrates how to drag her body over His to the music, how to grind her ass against His lap to a rhythm. Jedda and Jarrah joke all the while, impersonating Joe’s voice in cupped hands.

 

**Protégé**

            The third day dawns, and Mab works Mint harder than ever before, even giving her lessons in how to do what she calls a strip-tease. Her voice grows harsh and urgent; the laughter of the day before is gone.

            Finally, when Mint feels like she can no longer even move without her muscles screaming, Mab lets her sit and bathe her swollen feet in the _impluvium_.

            “Listen,” Mab says. “I’m teaching you this for _you_. There’s going to be a day when He throws you away, too. There is for everyone. You need a back-up plan for when He does.”

 

**Goodbyes**

            The sky above them turns pink, then purple, and then the light fades away. The women sit and speak quietly and sadly. Kindest clasps Mab’s hands in hers and Miss Giddy stuffs what supplies she can into the pockets of Mab’s clothes.

            When the light fades from the sky, the vault door swings open.

            “Say your goodbyes,” Joe tells them, and poor Kindest nearly begins to wail, her arms wrapped tight around Mab’s waist.

            “Please, no,” the Twins are begging, but Joe doesn’t heed them.

            Mab grabs Mint’s hands just before she disappears through the door.

            “Remember what I said!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Bleed**

            _Rick lies before her, and his blood gushes red from his chest. It stains the sand and begins to pool, surrounding her and staining her and soaking her in thick, warm crimson. She can feel his bullet wounds piercing her guts._

            And then she wakes, and the bed underneath her is a mess of blood. The pain is shrieking through her muscles. She rolls over, clutching at her stomach, tears springing to her eyes.

            “Kindest,” she whispers, her voice wavering with terror. “ _Kindest_.”

            A lamp flickers to life, and worried faces surround her.

            “She’s bleeding. God, she’s bleeding.”

            “It’s time.”

 

**Treat**

            Joe comes in first thing that morning. He holds the stained red sheets in His hands, His face unreadable except for His eyes, which are shining. Mint is lying, still in pain, on a clean bed, a hot pack pressed to her belly.

            He hands her an orange ball. It smells sweet and pungent and it takes her a moment to realise that it’s food.

            “Congratulations,” He tells her, and He sounds sincere. He looks to Miss Giddy. “I trust you to teach her what to expect, if she’s not already aware.”

            Miss Giddy takes a deep breath. “Yes, Immortan.”

 

**Duties**

            “I _know_ what to expect,” Mint says as soon as Joe leaves.

            Miss Giddy strokes her hair, just like Mom used to. “I know, child. But do you know what _He_ expects?”

            Mint is silent, turning the orange ball in her hands. Miss Giddy takes it and cuts it open with a little knife, revealing the pulpy flesh within.

            “He will not be gentle,” she whispers, her voice tense. “He will not be kind. And He will expect you to enjoy yourself.”

            “I’m not _really_ a virgin, you know,” Mint grumbles.

            “Good. No girl should have _Him_ as their first.”

 

**Week**

            Every day for five days, Joe comes in to check on Mint. For the first two days, she feels too sick and sore to get out of bed. He sits by her bedside and talks to her a little while, and gives her the same fruit – an ‘orange,’ He calls it – every day. She devours them greedily, savouring the puckering sweetness.

            Sitting still for the remaining few days drives her nearly crazy. The rags between her legs reek of iron, and they’re itchy. She sits and practices her reading, trying to ignore the sticky mess and her own suffocating boredom.

 

**Lucky**

            The blood wanes at the end of the week, diminishing to only a trickle of red. Kindest sits with her, letting her feel the kick of the baby under her palm.

            “It’s almost over,” she assures Mint. “You won’t have to deal with it again for a while.”

            “One month.”

            Kindest rubs her huge belly. “Not if you’re lucky.”

            “How is _this_ lucky?”

            “He doesn’t come to you as often once you get big. He gets too worried about disturbing the baby.”

            “Is it that bad with Him?”

            Kindest sighs. Her face looks old. “He loves us. But it hurts.”

 

**Love**

            She thought she loved Rick. He was funny and he took care of her and Mom. But Mom always warned her that Rick didn’t love her back.

            _Just another man,_ Mom would say, and rub her legs.

            “Joe loves us,” Kindest assures her. “We’re His treasures. He gives us so much.”

            It’s true: she has never been so well fed, or had so much to drink. She's never slept so comfortably or taken baths or eaten oranges.

            Sometimes He even tells them, “I love you girls.”

            “No one else has ever loved me so much,” whispers Kindest, and she smiles.

 

**Ready**

            The blood stops one morning. There is nothing on the rags when she wakes, and they wait to see if it starts again. It doesn’t.

            “It’s time,” Miss Giddy says, and sends word to Joe.

            Mint is given a bath and her hair is combed out long and loose. Her legs and armpits and womanhood are shaved totally bare. Sweet perfumed oil is applied to her neck and her breasts and her inner thighs. Finally, she is wrapped in fresh white linens. Her lips are painted bright red, her eyes outlined in black.

            “She’s ready.”

            The Twins hold her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: the next chapter is pretty clearly going to have some harder stuff. Thanks for reading, as always!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Pretty much everything in the tags applies for this chapter.

**Virgin**

            She isn’t a virgin, but she nearly feels like one again as the vault door swings open and an immensely tall man shambles inside.

            “Dad’s sent me to get ya,” he grunts, and Mint rises hesitantly to her feet, her mouth dry and heart pounding. Kindest squeezes her hand gently, and the Twins hug her.

            “It’ll be over soon,” promises Jedda.

            “Before you know it,” Jarrah adds.

            The tall stranger makes a noise of impatience. Shaking like a child, Mint follows him out, casting one last look back at Kindest before the door slams shut with a heavy, metallic thud.

 

**Maze**

            The man leads Mint through twisting halls, down stairways, around dark corners, until she’s well and truly lost her sense of direction. Any attempt to escape in this maze would be a fool’s errand.

            That is, if she wanted to run. She’s not sure she does, though her fear tugs at her to do so. She can only think of Mab, selling herself down in Root Bottom. Where else does she have to go? Rick is dead, and Mom could be anywhere. The wide expanse of wasteland is fully visible from the vault: there is no where else to go.

 

**Bedroom**

            At last, they arrive at a great iron door emblazoned with the same mark that’s still slowly healing on the back of Mint’s neck. The tall man knocks, waits a beat, and then pushes the heavy door open with ease and nudges Mint gently inside.

            “That’s all, Rictus.”

            Mint blinks until her eyes adjust in the low light, and then sees Joe, surrounded by a few War Boys. His death mask is gone, and the Boys are working on removing His armour, rubbing His dusted-white torso down with water and ointments.

            Rictus nods, and another door slams shut behind her.

 

**Sons**

            “My son, Rictus, is a giant with the mind of a child,” Joe tells her. His soft skin is covered in scars and strange nodules. Though He sits upright and proud, His breathing is laboured, and His jaw is clenched against pain. “My other son is a giant with the body of a child.”

            “I didn’t know you already had children.”

            “Children. Not heirs.” His eyes meet hers, flashing pale blue through the dimness. “That is _your_ job.”

            The Boys finish up and bow. Joe dismisses them with a wave of His hand, never looking away from Mint.

            “Now. Dance.”

 

**Dance**

            Joe presses a button on a machine beside Him, and music begins. Mint closes her eyes, and her hips begin to move to the thrumming beat.

            When she opens her eyes, His are burning with hunger, and she feels a thrill at seeing Him half-naked and still. 

            Her own enraptured audience.

            And so she does the dance Mab taught her, kneeling between His legs and sliding slowly up His body like a snake before turning around and grinding her ass against Him, her hips jerking to the rhythm. She leans back against His chest, feeling Him swell beneath her.

 

**Grind**

            When she takes His hands and places them on her hips, He can no longer keep still: she feels His ruined lips drag up her neck to her jaw bone, His breath warm against her ear. His calloused fingers dig into her flesh so hard that she’s sure she’ll have bruises later, but she keeps up the dance.

            _It’s easier to do this than I thought_ , she realises. It’s so much easier just to lose herself in the music, to let her body take over as the dread leaks away. She is in control here.

            But then the music changes.

 

**Switch**

            She loses the beat and, with it, whatever charm she held over Him. He jerks her ass back tight against His crotch, and she feels something warm and wet as He traces His tongue in a line along her throat. His hand grabs her by the jaw and turns her face roughly so that He can press His diseased mouth to hers.

            She doesn't struggle; she lets His tongue in, and it roams her mouth possessively, tasting her. She hears herself let out a strangled moan, and His cock twitches against the cleft in her ass.

            “Bed,” He growls. “ _Now_.”

 

**Bed**

            She half-stumbles to the bed, linens already being pulled off by His greedy hands. Her sarong comes off in a tangle of white, ensnaring her arms and legs. His mouth is everywhere, tasting her, exploring her, teeth nipping at her flesh. His great, hulking frame overwhelms her. She can only close her eyes and give herself up. _Rick never hungered like this, never attacked me with such need._

            When He enters her, she is slick, but still not expecting the suddenness of it. He fills her up, surges into her like a battering ram.

            She is drowning beneath Him.

 

**Delight**

            Sleep takes Mint almost against her will; her body is just too exhausted to resist it. She falls asleep with an arm slung across His wide chest, His seed dripping out between her legs. In the morning, He wakes her with His mouth on her breasts, His fingers dipping into her folds. She’s still mostly asleep when He takes her from behind, and she allows herself to half-dream it’s Old Rick, alive and with her and protecting her.

            Thinking of Rick, she comes, her whole body quaking.

            “A delight,” He whispers to her afterwards, stroking her hair. “You are a delight.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Doors**

            When she opens her eyes again, she’s still tangled in His bed, limbs caught in His sheets. Her womanhood aches as if someone has kicked her. Her torso is covered in His bite-marks.

            Slowly, she becomes aware of a great clamour outside. For the first time, she notices that there’s another door, this one much larger than the one leading to the hall.

            Muffled by sandstone, she hears Joe’s voice ringing out across the Citadel, and answering cheers. Gingerly, she wraps a sheet around herself and hobbles over.

            Amazingly, it opens. This door, out of so many, is unlocked.

**Water**

            Cautiously, Mint pushes the door open and finds herself surrounded by water on one side and light on the other. There is more water here, in this one room, than she has ever seen in her life.

            As her eyes adjust to the bright light, she’s able to make out Joe standing against blue sky, surrounded by several men.

            “-beaten the Buzzards back!” He shouts, waits a beat, and then holds up His hands to silence the wild cheering.

            And then she hears a loud click, a rushing, and a thunderous noise so powerful that it makes the stone tremble.

 

**Curiosity**

            Rictus, standing beside his father, turns. She freezes, but it’s too late: he nudges Joe and motions.

            Joe glances at her. “That door was meant to be locked,” He hisses at Rictus. He’s at Mint’s side in an instant, a hand closing around her arm. His brow is furrowed, and for a moment her heart catches in her throat.

            “Why didn’t you wait inside?” He demands.

            “I just ...,” Mint looks towards the great blue opening. Her mouth is dry. “I just wanted to see. I was thirsty.”

            His eyes soften. “Come on, then. Rictus, get my wife a some milk.”

           

**View**

            His hand still fast around her arm, Joe takes Mint to the huge opening, keeping her to the shadows so that none outside might gaze upon her.

            Mint looks out in awe, drinking up the sight of the Citadel that she can just barely hear from the vault. There's the massive Garage directly across from them, crawling with white-painted War Boys, and then, below, the great brown swarm of unwashed bodies.

            “The Wretched,” Joe tells her. “They come to me from all over for protection, for shelter. You would be down there had I not raised you up, my Delight.”

 

**Search**

            She stands and looks out a while longer, Joe at her side the whole time. Rictus brings her a bottle of milk which she drinks up quickly, her eyes never leaving the Wretched below. She tries her best to make out individuals, to look for a grey-haired woman on crutches, but to no success.

            Joe keeps a hand on her waist, and thankfully His attention is elsewhere as He gives orders to men with black foreheads.

            “There was a battle?” she asks, not taking her gaze from the Wretched. _Where are you, Mom?_

            “In the East.”

            “We won?”

            “We won.”

 

**Hope**

            “I need to go to the Garage.”

            Mint’s spirit leaps. “Can I come with? I know some about cars.” It’s true; Rick taught her plenty about them on the road. And the Garage is closer to the bottom, closer to the Wretched, where she might look at their faces better.

            Joe looks at her in mixed pleasure and surprise, but shakes His head. “The Garage is no place for you,” He says, petting her hair. “You must wait for me.”

            She is shuttled back into His bedroom, and the door closes behind her, locking her in stifling darkness once again.

 

**Cry**

            When the lock clicks behind her, the tears burst forth violently and unexpectedly. She hasn’t wept in two years. _Stop your weeping_ , Mom always reprimanded her. _It's a waste of water._

            She can’t stop, though, no matter how hard she tries. Her heart is tight with rage and frustration and it turns into water and is pouring out her eyes. She wants to strangle someone, to break something, but she doesn’t dare touch anything in this room. Instead, she just goes to the bed and punches a pillow until she doesn’t want to scream anymore.

            Pain throbs between her legs.

           

**Soothe**

            Her tears have dried by the time Joe comes back, leaving her with only a tired, empty feeling. Joe is actually humming with satisfaction as He walks in. He doesn’t even notice the redness of her eyes; He just takes her straight to bed, sating Himself on her flesh.

            Fucking is like dancing, or dancing is like fucking. Either way, it’s a backwards sort of comfort, numbing her pain through bruises and bite-marks. When He gestures for her to use her mouth, she obeys without question, and He grabs her hair so hard her eyes water. Even that is comforting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mutual**

            They go slowly this time, and Mint is grateful. The crying left her hollow. She’s greedy for whatever fills the space.

            He lets her set the pace, rolling her tongue languidly over the head of His cock and down the shaft, licking up the drops of precome that leak from the tip.

            “Wait,” He mutters, and moves her so that she’s lying down His body, His head between her legs. She gasps when she feels His tongue probe at her, and before long she can no longer concentrate on His pleasure.

            He presses a finger in, and she cries out.

 

**Melt**

            When He finds her clit, she can no longer contain herself. She’s reduced to a quivering mess on top of Him, muscles gone watery and mind gone white.

            There’s wetness all over her thighs, His mouth. She feels a rumble of laughter deep in His chest.

            Joe squeezes her ass and rolls her off Him. She can only lie senseless on the mattress as He leans over her, eyes bright with lust and mouth dripping. He attacks her with His mouth again, sucking and biting her flesh, drunk on her.

            “Please,” she begs, not knowing precisely what for. “Oh, _please_.”

 

**Gently**

            Joe leans back against the headboard and pulls her onto His lap, her chest against His. She’s still limp from her orgasm, so He maneuvers her limbs, wrapping her legs around His waist and lowering her onto His cock. His fingers are digging into her soft skin, His mouth bruising her collarbone with biting kisses.

            When He thrusts upward, though, His mouth curls into a pained grimace, so instead He guides her hips in gentle rotations.

            Mint just closes her eyes, tucking her head into the crook of His neck, savouring the combination of His tender movements and His cruel lips.

 

**Exhibition**

            When He finally comes, He grabs her by the hair and crushes her mouth to His. His scent fills her nostrils as He slams her pelvis ever harder against Him.

             After He grunts His orgasm into her mouth, Joe releases her, and she collapses backwards onto the sheets, releasing His softening cock. He stares down at her brown body stretched out, the mess of their fucking covering her thighs.

             She watches Him from hooded eyes, grateful that, horrible as He is, He makes her forget whatever was hurting.

             He’s breathing heavily in combined pain and exertion. “You weren’t a virgin.”

 

**Price**

            She freezes where she is: a picture of lascivious display with wide terror in her eyes.

            “I…how…how did you know?” She finally manages to whisper.

            He smirks a little, placing a heavy hand on her leg and rubbing. “No virgin knows what you do. The Mechanic made an error.”

            “I’m sorry,” she breathes, her heart hammering. She has no idea what else to say.

            “You only lied by omission. The slaver is the one who cheated me.” Joe holds up two fingers.

            _Two gallons. He was overcharged for me. I’m only worth eight._

            The knowledge settles heavily in her gut.

 

**Secrets**

            To her great relief, the Immortan mostly seems satisfied that He’s figured out her secret. “The slaver will be dealt with,” He tells her, His voice chilly and calm. He traces a finger idly up and down the opening of her womanhood, frowning in thought.

            “So who were the others?” He finally asks.

            She takes a deep breath, and tells Him everything:

            The dusty road, darting in fear from settlement to settlement until Old Rick found them.

            Mom’s scarred legs, her missing toes.

            The endless nights naked at Rick’s side, finally feeling safe for the first time.

            _Safe like now._

 

**Medicine**

            When she finishes, Joe’s frown is even deeper, but He says nothing. When He moves, His jaw clenches in pain again.

            “I need my ointment,” He grunts. “There, on the shelf.”

            She fetches it for Him. “Do you want me to go get…”

            “No, you do it.” With a soft sigh, He manages to shift Himself onto His stomach so she can see the expanse of His tumoured back.

            The ointment smells terrible, and His flesh is horrifying, but when she’s finished He squeezes her hand.

            She’s sent back to the vault that night. The others look at her sympathetically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**After**

            The Twins joke with her, trying to cheer her up from the horrible experience that she’s still not sure she had. She still can’t shake the numbness from her cry.

            Mint ignores their efforts, going into the room with her and Kindest’s beds. Kindest is massaging her swollen belly, and when she sees Mint she stretches out her arms. Mint settles into them immediately. Kindest is warm and soft and demands nothing from this embrace, and Mint falls asleep there.

            In the morning, she looks in the mirror and counts the deep purple bruises and bite-marks sprinkled across her flesh.

 

**Wife**

            The new routine is easy to embrace. She soon comes to enjoy when He calls for her. When she’s in His bed, she’s more than free pussy. She’s His wife. His Delight.

            She takes pride in how quickly she learns how to make His eyes flutter closed, how to make Him gasp her name like He’s dying. She even learns to love His greedy mouth, His grasping hands, the way they hurt her even as He pushes her into screaming orgasms.

            Soon, she no longer needs to think of Rick. There’s only this Immortan, this God, and He’s chosen her.

 

**Cage**

            The worst is when she has to go back. Back into the vault, into the stifling everyday where she feels like a jug put back on the shelf.

            So she dances. She dances as much as she can, developing new moves, new routines. When she gets too tired, she sits among her glass pieces – her “mosaics,” Miss Giddy calls them - and out come images of wasteland sunsets, big rigs, V8 engines, winding roads. Things she saw growing up out there. Rick’s car with its big red stripe.

            With her fingers, she travels the childhood roadways she will never ride again.

 

**Seeding**

            Joe divides His time equally between the Twins and Mint now. Kindest He leaves alone, only fawning over her round stomach, feeling the movements under His palm. The closer they get to the birth, the more excited He becomes, working with ever more vigour at planting His seed in the others.

            When the date arrives for Mint’s next bleed, it doesn’t come. When the week ends without a spot of red, she sits upon His knee and whispers it in His ear.

            He takes her then and there, in her own bed. The others wait awkwardly in the main room.

 

**Joy**

            This time, the gift is a great green ball, striped with black, as heavy as her belly will one day be. Joe splits it open and inside is juicy red, dotted with black seeds. The light, sweet smell fills the room.

            “Watermelon,” He calls it, and hands Mint a huge slice. The water runs down sticky over her hands when she bites in.

            “For my Delight,” He says, “who does not disappoint me.”

            The Twins sit silent. Six months since their last pregnancy – one dead, one deformed – and they remain barren. They almost look relieved, as if crossing their fingers.

 

**Interrupted**

            Kindest is playing the piano for Joe when He nudges Mint to her feet.

            “Dance for me,” He tells her.

            Kindest’s music flows around her, lifting her arms, bending her into graceful movements, her arms twining around her body like vines in the nursery.

            The piano clangs to a stop, and Mint’s feet stumble. She turns and looks at Kindest, who has gone pale. A trickle of clear fluid runs down her leg and puddles on the sandy floor. Her hands are shaking over the keys and she looks, terrified, into Mint’s eyes.

            “Oh,” she whispers. “The baby. The baby.”

 

**Labour**

            All at once Joe is on His feet. With alarming speed, the Immortan rushes to the door and bellows for the Mechanic before barrelling back to Kindest’s side, one thick arm behind her back to support her, His eyes frantic.

            The Mechanic is there within minutes, his satchel of tools bouncing against his side. “Get her to a bed, you fools! Hurry! Someone get me some water!”

            Someone shoves a pail into Mint’s hands, and she stands there stupidly for a moment before Miss Giddy impatiently yanks it away from her. Kindest is screaming.

            Mint keeps trying, but she can’t move.

 

**Disappointment**

            The baby comes in a rush of blood, Kindest howling all the while. Its flesh is red and puckered and its face is half-gone: just one eye and a nose crushed inward. It can only make a strange wheezing noise.

            Kindest never gets to hold it. Joe takes one look at it and turns away, gesturing sharply. The child is taken out, unable to even cry.

            Joe leaves Kindest’s bedside. There is a loud crash as He picks up a plate and hurls it at the wall.

            Mint plucks up the pieces and puts them in her little tin box.


	12. Chapter 12

**Midnight**

            Mint awakens one night to hear Kindest sobbing. She almost says something, but then she notices the great shadow leaning over Kindest’s bed.

            “I’m sorry, I’m so _sorry_ ,” Kindest keeps repeating.

            “We’ll try again,” the Immortan says, and Mint is amazed to hear His voice choked with emotion. “One last time.”

            “You won’t drive me away,” Kindest whispers between sobs. “I trust you. I _know_ you won’t.”

            Joe remains silent. He stays a while longer, patiently calming Kindest, then gets up to leave. Mint closes her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

           She feels His hand lay heavy on her stomach.

 

**Nausea**

            It doesn’t take long for the nausea to start. Miss Giddy calls it ‘morning sickness,” but it seems to last all day. It’s horrible. She can barely stand the smell of food any longer, especially not the cheese they have at lunch.

            Joe takes her to bed once or twice, only to have her get ill on top of Him. He ends up towelling Himself off and then finishing alone, scowling in irritation all the while as she retches into a bin.

            She holds her tongue, not pointing out that _He’s_ the one who wanted her this way so badly.

 

**Exam**

            The Mechanic comes regularly now. He parts her legs with a lecherous grin and feels her breasts for milk, his hand lingering just a bit too long. Joe is always there, hovering in quiet anxiety over the Mechanic’s shoulder.

             “Somethin’ definitely growin’ in there,” he grunts after a couple months. “Growin’ well.” His rough hands stroke her stomach. One drifts towards her crotch. This is just too much, and Mint whispers “ _Joe_ ,” her voice edged with panic.

             “Enough,” Joe breathes. “I’m pleased.”

             The Mechanic sits back, grinning. “You should be. This’un’s as fertile as any you’ve had. She’s a delight.”

 

**Diagnosis**

            She can’t see it behind His mask, but Mint can tell that Joe is making His subtle little smile. “I knew it when I saw her. I named her well. Do you have anything for her vomiting?”

            “Not much, I’m afraid. It’ll pass soon enough. Just be gentle with her.”

            Joe’s eyes drift towards Kindest’s bed. She rarely gets up anymore. Not even to play piano. When she reads, her eyes glaze over and she drifts off, not looking at anything.

            “And her?”

            “Post, uh, _partum_. Should be safe to try again with her, though. She’ll get over it soon.”

 

**Retry**

            It’s the Twin’s turn next. Jedda lies on the bed as Jarrah holds her hand. Mint goes to sit with Kindest, trying to ignore her queasiness.

            “In heat, both of ‘em,” the Mechanic says. “Kindest should be, too. I’d make the most of it, put more buns in your ovens.”

            Joe takes the Twins that night, and Kindest the next. When Kindest returns, she crawls into Mint’s bed. Mint wraps her arms around the older girl, holding her tight.

            “It’s not going to work,” Kindest whispers. "That was my second strike.”

            “He loves us,” Mint reminds her.

            “He loved Mab, too.”

 

**Confused**

            They lie quietly for a while, Mint rubbing Kindest’s back. And then, in the darkness, she feels the soft wet press of Kindest’s lips to hers, salty with tears.

            She hesitates, unsure what to do, but then she remembers and moves her hand, pressing it between the other girl’s legs and stroking.

            Kindest breaks the kiss, pulls back.

            “No,” she stammers. “No, not like that. I didn’t…I don’t know. I don’t want that. Not now. I’m sorry. Not right now.”

            Mint can’t see her face, but she can hear her voice cracking, choked with tears and confusion.

            “I’m so sorry.”

 

**Lost**

            “Please just hold me,” Kindest whispers after a little while, her voice still wavering. “Please. I don’t know what to do.”

            So Mint holds her friend, her mind spinning. Does she want Kindest? She doesn’t know. She can only think of Joe, think of the comfort in His hands, and she wishes she could give that to Kindest.

If it were allowed.

            Mint clenches her fist and holds it up in front of her face. She can barely see the shadow of it in the darkness.

            Eventually, she’s able to sleep. When the two awaken, they don’t speak of it. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that a certain plagiarist by the name of infinitysteelecressingdon (https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5506536/infinitysteelecressingdon) has been stealing this fic and claiming it as her own. I'd appreciate it if my readers reported her. 
> 
> She also has accounts under the names of katherineziegler and mercuryelizabethjordanrandolph on fanfiction.net, and as infinitysteelecressingdon and katherineziegler on tumblr.
> 
> Katherineziegler, I know you're stealing my fics. You are a thief, and not even a very clever one. Stop stealing my writing and others' writing.

**Heartbeat**

            Neither Mint nor Kindest ever mention what happened. They continue to sleep in the same bed, but Kindest is careful to only hold Mint’s hand.

            Her breasts swell, her stomach grows. Pressing his earhorn to her womb, the Mechanic reports a heartbeat, and Joe nearly shoves him out of the way to listen. The Immortan hovers over her, listening until His eyes light up and He looks to Mint and she sees pride and tenderness and _love_.

            He drops the earhorn and gathers her into His arms, the teeth of His mask pressed to her forehead in a monstrous kiss.

 

**Frustration**

            The nausea disappears, and with the sickness gone, Joe once more takes her to His bed between His renewed attempts with Kindest and the Twins.

            Now He touches her like she’s glass, refusing to fuck her into the mattress like before. It nearly drives her mad; with the growth in her belly has come a surge in need for more, harder, rougher, _as much as possible_.

            Instead, He gently quiets her when she begins sobbing in frustration. She pounds on His chest and swears; He holds her head to His heart and shushes her, His hand on her rounded belly.

 

**Lovemaking**

            Tenderly, He turns her over and parts her legs, slipping in from behind so that He doesn’t accidentally press His weight against her belly. He pumps into her as gently and slowly as possible, His hands on her breasts. He loves touching them even more now that they’ve filled with milk, and she doesn’t let on how sore they are. He might stop otherwise.

            It all goes so gently that she nearly starts crying again, but she keeps quiet and rubs her clit furiously as He rocks into her, pushing herself hard until she finally achieves a disappointingly minor orgasm.

           

**Sleep**

            Joe takes His sweet time, apparently wanting to draw it out as long as He possibly can. When He finally does come, she’s nearly drifted off, the high of her little orgasm leaving her. Joe wraps His arms around her and she feels His breath in her hair as sleep takes her.

            Her dreams are restless. She can never escape the awareness of His scarred, pale arms around her.

            In the morning, He wakes her with a hand stroking her lower belly, heat-chapped lips pressed to her shoulder.

            “Delight,” He breathes, “you have the seed of a God within you.”

 

**Gods**

            Mint doesn’t know how to respond to that; she knows the War Boys and Wretched worship Him, but is Joe really a god? Miss Giddy says He’s not, but what if nobody has ever met a god before? What if even gods can grow old and sickly in this Waste? What if gods plant their seed in young women? Mint remembers the story Miss Giddy told them: the old one about the god who impregnated the virgin, and how she bore him a healthy son.

            That was a desert god, too. Maybe this is just something that desert gods do.

 

**Anticipation**

            When the kicking starts, her heart awakens.

            It almost seems unreal for the first few months, but then the first little jolt comes, and then another, and then another, and then she can feel the child moving its whole body, jostling around inside her with a sudden vigour.

            She sits and presses her hand to her belly, and when she’s alone she finds herself talking to it, telling it about the desert, about stars, cars, gas, engines.

            She begins thinking of names, wondering what the child will look like. Joe’s stature, her hair.

            And then one day, the kicking stops.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood and semi-graphic descriptions of a miscarriage.

**Silence**

          “It’s quiet,” the Mechanic mutters, listening carefully. “I’m not hearing much.”

          “It stopped last night,” Mint tells him. “Is it normal?”

          He sighs and sits back. “Never know, with firsts.”

          “Is it too soon for a caesarian?” Joe asks, hovering behind the Mechanic.

          “What’s a caesarian?” Mint asks immediately, her skin prickling. The sound of it on His voice is cold, ominous.

          Both men ignore her.

          Instead, the Mechanic shakes his head and looks at Joe. “Won’t survive, not this early. Lungs aren’t formed.”

          Joe scowls deeply, the white paint on His brow creasing. “Then what now?”

         “Now? Just wait.”

 

**Rivers**

            One morning, Mint wakes up to find spots of blood between her legs, with dark little pieces of red.

            By noon, she’s reduced to weeping in pain. She barely makes it, delirious with agony, to the toilet. Blood is streaming rivers down her legs, and she crouches moaning on the porcelain as something drips and slithers its way out of her.

            Dimly, she hears someone screaming for the Mechanic, and soon she feels strong arms around her, pulling her up. Her vision is fading, but she smells Joe, and she buries her head in the soft crook of His neck.

 

**Empty**

            She’s laid down, but the world is rocking, nausea spinning through her.

            “She needs a blood bag. She’s lost too much.”

            She doesn’t hear or see anything for a long time. When she opens her eyes again, there’s a naked, pale man hanging upside-down beside her bed, a long line of red running between them. She opens her mouth to scream, but she’s too tired.

            She sleeps again.

            When she next wakes, she’s clean and in her bed, and Kindest is beside her.

            “The baby?” She whispers.

            “I’m so sorry, Mint.”

            She puts a hand on her belly, still swollen.

 

**Loss**

            There’s a stirring in the main room, and soon enough Joe appears at the door, looking down at her. His eyes are red and tired.

            Mint turns and squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t look at Him, not while His eyes are so sad. After a few moments, she hears His footsteps recede, and the heavy clunk of the vault door.

            “He was out there since the miscarriage,” Kindest tells her. “The first is always so hard for Him.”

            “For _Him_ ,” Mint mutters. Her body feels so light, so vacant. She rubs her stomach, waiting for a kick. None comes.

 

**Mourning**

            She never gets to see what came out of her. Kindest tells her it was no bigger than Joe’s fist, barely even looked human.

            Mint doesn’t speak. She just sits quietly, probing the sudden emptiness inside her. She had never imagined being pregnant, and now she is suddenly not-pregnant again, all within the space of a few weeks.

            Joe leaves her alone for a long time. He focuses on the Twins instead, who now spend more and more time sitting alone and speaking secretively. They do their best to make Him laugh, but their own laughter has long died away.

 

**Songs**

            One night, He comes in and tells them that He wants to be sung to. Miss Giddy has been teaching them songs from the beforetimes, in lovely ancient languages. Mint can barely carry a tune, but the Twins sing like angels, their voices perfectly harmonised.

            When their song fades to silence, the only sound is Joe’s clapping.

            “Beautiful,” He says, “Beautiful.”

            He then turns to Mint. “And you, child, do a dance for Daddy.”

            Mint shudders at the name. It’s sick, backwards, when almost all His children lie in shallow graves.

            Even so, she obeys, trying to remember old movements.

 

 **Want**  
            Though she knows her limbs are stiff and out of practice, Mint closes her eyes and permits Kindest’s music to carry her gently. When she opens her eyes, His are full of that familiar old desire, and she knows what’s coming.

            Mint doesn’t bother waiting for His orders; she flits to Him like sunlight and settles upon His lap. Even so, she can’t bring herself to touch Him first. She still feels too empty.

            Joe looks at her for a time, admiring her, before running His hand up her side to cup her breast, still swollen and full of milk.

 

**Tears**

            He takes her to His room that night. His old roughness returns as He rips her linens from her body, still soft from the pregnancy. When He begins to kiss at her neck, she suddenly realises that she’s crying. She hasn’t cried in so long. Her eyes have been too dry for tears in this desert, even during the miscarriage.

            The Immortan notices her weeping, but says nothing. He simply wipes her tears away with rough, calloused fingers and kisses her, shoving His thick tongue into her mouth until she feels like she’s going to choke to death on Him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Dreams, I**

_She and Rick spend the night on the ground outside the car in a makeshift lean-to. They always do this when he wants her. Mom sleeps in the car._

_When Rick calls her, she’s sitting in the back of the car with mom, working together to fix up an old shotgun. Her own little Beretta is lying beside her on the seat. At his call, she flings the door open and leaps out, happy to escape the work._

_She slips into his sleeping bag already half-naked, and he buries his stubble-covered face between her legs and licks until she screams._

 

**Dreams, II**

            _She wakes to gunfire._

_The girl! someone is shouting. Get the girl!_

_She feels a hand close on her arm, and Rick drags her out of the lean-to to take shelter behind the car. She reaches for her gun, but suddenly remembers where she left it._

_She doesn’t even have trousers on._

_Rick takes a couple men out, but when he turns and screams at her to get under the car, he’s hit twice. Blood gushes from his chest, and he slumps back against the trunk, sinking down to the sand._

_When they take her, her hands are stained red._

 

**Wake**

            Mint awakens, staring at the ceiling through dim morning light. Joe is snoring hard beside her, His heavy arm draped across her chest and tangled in her hair. She looks at Him and thinks of Rick and the lightness in her stomach makes her want to scream. Instead she just nuzzles as close as she can against Joe, clinging to Him, her tears wetting His powdered skin.

            He wakes and begins to hold her tight, too, to caress her in return. She presses her face into His neck, feeling His pulse, knowing Joe is alive and here and _with her_.

 

**Admissions**

            His hand drifts to her breasts, to her soft belly, stroking.

            “Try again?” He murmurs, His voice still heavy with sleep.

            She nods silently, choking on her sobs. He pulls Himself on top of her and presses inside. It only takes a few pumps before He’s spent, too tired to draw it out like He enjoys.

            Mint doesn’t care. She wraps her legs around His waist, won’t let Him withdraw.

            “I love you,” she whimpers. “I love you, Joe.” And then, softer: “Please don’t leave me.”

            Silence as He looks at her.

            “I’m not going to leave you. Daddy’s here.”

 

**Good Girl**

            They stay like that for a long time. Joe is stroking her hair, tired and deep in thought. She can only put her head against His chest and listen to His heartbeat, steady and regular as a war-drum.

            _Don’t be ridiculous,_ Mom whispers in her head. _He’s just all you know so far._

            She squeezes her eyes shut as if that will close her ears, too.

            _He loves me_ , she repeats to herself. _He won’t leave me. He won’t leave me_.

            “You’re such a good girl, Delight,” Joe tells her as He drifts back to sleep.

            Delight kisses His cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been dealing with a lot of busy life changes!  
> This chapter was a short one, but it officially marks the halfway point for Such Things! As always, thanks so much for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

**Suffocation**

            She spends almost all her spare time in Joe’s bed as He tries, again and again, to fix what went wrong. When she has space to move, when He’s not biting at her neck and squeezing her too tight to breathe, she practices her reading. It’s come to a halt since the miscarriage; she has to work hard to learn new words. Her spelling is atrocious.

            In the evenings, she sometimes makes mosaics, but she can’t concentrate. Her hands are too restless to be satisfied with them. The movements become monotonous, the colours faded.

            She misses the feel of metal.

 

**Used**

            She sits with Kindest, who does not get up much now, braiding her hair, holding her hand.

            Sometimes, Mint begs Kindest to eat something. When she does, she just cries, and says it tastes like ashes in her mouth.

            “I’ll never have another baby,” she sobs into Mint’s shoulder one night after Joe takes her.

            “You still have a third try.”

            Kindest shakes her head, shaking. “I’m used up. It won’t work any longer.”

            The Twins sit and help comfort her, but they share a look, their eyes distant. Jedda whispers something to Jarrah in a language Mint doesn’t know.

 

**Barren**

            It’s been a long time since the Twins got with child. Joe, as they tell her, allows five hundred days between pregnancies before a wife is declared barren and cast out. Mint isn’t sure how long it’s been for them, but they have a calendar in their minds, and they’re counting down.

            Nevertheless, they tell Kindest not to worry, that He will surely give her another baby soon. She buries her head in her hands, says they’re wrong.

            _Perhaps_ , Mint figures, _they just hope it will be her and not them_.

            She sits and worries her hands, itching to move.

 

**Daddy**

            Manipulating Joe is not so terribly hard, once Delight figures out how.

            “Daddy,” she murmurs to Him, ever so sweetly. “Daddy, I want to see your car.”

            He groans softly, fingers digging into her curls. “It’s not a place for you, Delight.”

            She doesn’t stop. She trails her tongue down His chest, over His belly, her breath light on His cock.

            “Please, Daddy? I’ll be good.”

            “Be good _now_.”

            “I want you to fuck me in the Garage, in your car. Daddy, I want it so _bad_.”

            Joe moans His consent. Wetness splashes her face, warm and sticky.

            “Okay?”

            “ _Okay_.”

 

**Garage**

            The Garage is bigger than she ever imagined. The tunnels open up into one great hall where rows upon rows of cars are kept. The ceiling is hung with chains and a metallic din fills the place.

            Delight remembers the garages of her wandering childhood, watching cars being fixed, helping Mom – when Mom could find work.

            There’s a smell of oil and gas in the air, and she smiles.

            War Boys bow as the Immortan walks past, but their eyes go wide when they see Delight trailing behind. They stare unabashedly, some of them turning red under their white powder.

 

**Horse**

            Delight doesn’t mind anymore. She’s used to it now, the way people stare at her. She pays more attention to the cars, especially the great black beast that looms up in front of her, parked just in front of the massive cave opening. It reminds her of two bodies entwined, rooting in some sort of violent mechanical passion.

            Joe pauses to talk to a Blackthumb for a while, discussing repairs, and His attention drifts from Delight. She goes up to the huge car, running her hands over the fender in admiration, staring at the deep, polished black of the hood.

 

**Below**

           It’s then, out of the corner of her eye, that she notices and remembers the great opening and the dense crowds below, just beneath the gargantuan, slave-powered wheels. Delight turns, moving to the opening to look down at the Wretched. It’s easier to distinguish the desperate faces in the mass from here, all covered in layers of sand and grit, their houses strapped to their backs.

          And then she sees the shrivelled form of a woman curled up in the shade. Her hair is dark, shot through with gray: a long, tangled black mane like Mint’s.

          And her legs –

          “ _Mom!_ ”


	17. Chapter 17

**Screaming**

     Once she starts screaming, she doesn’t stop. She launches herself at the edge of the Garage door and has to be held back by an Imperator. Only the arms around her waist are keeping her there, and she’s kicking and struggling against those, hollering as loud as she can.

     Mom turns and looks up, and Mint sees her scramble for her crutches and limp towards the Gatekeepers. Distantly, she can hear that familiar voice, high and ragged and frantic.

     Joe arrives beside Mint, pulling her back into His arms. She struggles against Him, too, her own voice shrill and wild.

 

**Shock**

     She goes out of herself for some time. She’s not sure when. When she returns, though, she’s in the vault, a cup of cold Mother’s Milk in her hands. Kindest is beside her, an arm around her waist, and the Twins are sitting across from her, curled up on the other bed and staring.

     Distantly, she can hear Him talking to Miss Giddy. She still can’t hear what He’s saying exactly – everything’s so indistinct and foggy.

     Hands shaking, she takes a sip of the milk. It’s not quite real, either, and she has to remind herself to swallow it down.

 

**Lecture**

     The others leave; Joe enters, sits and stares at her with fierce dark eyes.

     “You nearly killed yourself,” He tells her.

     “My mom,” she begins.

     Joe grabs her by the chin. “Were you really so eager to get away, Delight?”

     “ _No_ ,” she objects, but He squeezes, silencing her.

     “You nearly dived out the door to her. To _her_. The woman who sold you as a child to a man you didn’t know. Why?”

     “She’s…,” Delight whispers, “she’s my _mom_.”

     “And I am your husband, your All-Father, your _god_.” Joe strokes her hair. “Sweet Delight, you never had anyone but me.”

 

**All**

_You’re all I’ve ever had, she tells Old Rick one night. They’re lying out on some old, threadbare blankets, watching the stars. Some are moving._

_What about your mom? You’ve got her, don’t ya?_

_Rick lights a cigarette, a little blink of orange in the deep blue-black._

_It’s not the same. She doesn’t love me like you do. You’re the only one who’s ever loved me this much._

_She nestles against him, her head on his broad chest. He smells of car grease and sweat._

_He doesn’t answer that. He just hugs her a little bit, patting her shoulder affectionately._

 

**Alive**

     Joe takes Delight into His bed again that night, and He thrusts so brutally into her that she knows she’ll have new bruises the next day. He dwarfs her, overwhelms her.

  
     Everything hurts when He touches her, and everything has changed. Mom is alive. Mom is _alive_ , even if Joe insists He’s all she has. Mom is alive and down among the Wretched, trying to get to her. Missing her. Wanting her back.

  
     She lets Joe pant on her skin, thrust into her. She moans His name, calls Him ‘Daddy’ so sweetly, just to hear Him make those desperate noises.

 

**Truth**

     She doesn’t come this time. She just holds Him tightly as he pumps and shudders His seed into her. Afterwards, He rolls off her, holds her.

     “I love you,” she tells Him. It’s still true. Seeing Mom hasn’t changed that. It won’t ever change that. He’s her husband. All-Father. God.

     “I love you too, Delight,” He whispers in her ear, and she feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes, emotions bubbling up from the cold numbness at her core.

     “You’re the only one who’s ever loved me this much,” she tells Him.

     This time, she knows it’s true.

 

**Second**

     A few weeks later, Delight wakes up and runs to the toilet, sickness bubbling up within her. She retches into the porcelain bowl, miserable and nauseous.

     Her blood doesn’t come the next week, either, when it’s due. The week slides past with no redness, no iron mess. It doesn't matter. She knows. She doesn’t need the Mechanic to tell her, though he does anyway.

     “This time, it’ll work,” the Immortan repeatedly assures her.

     She wants so badly to believe Him. She puts her hands on her stomach, rubbing it, wondering when she’ll feel the kicks.

      _If_ she’ll feel the kicks.


	18. Chapter 18

**Beg**

            “Please,” she asks. “Please. She knows how healthy pregnancy works. She was pregnant with _me_.”

            He doesn’t answer. His eyes are cold and closed as He sits and watches her.

            “Daddy,” she whispers, dropping carefully to her knees. Her hand rests on His inner thigh, close to His crotch. “Daddy, _please_. I’m begging.”

            His hand closes in her hair. “Convince me,” He says. The others have moved into their alcoves. She can feel them trying to ignore what’s going on in the main room.

            Delight moves her hand over the bulge in His trousers, rubbing gently before opening them up.

 

**Mercy**

            The vault door swings open one day, and in limps Mom, followed by the Immortan. Her head is bowed, her lined face tense.

            “Someone here to see you, Delight.”

            Delight rises to her feet, hand on her round belly. In that moment, there’s only Mom, and she runs as fast as she can to embrace her.

            Mom stands still and quiet, and doesn’t move to embrace her in return.

            Delight doesn’t care. She hugs her, hard.

            “Thank you,” she whispers to Joe, tears pricking in her eyes. “Thank you, Immortan.”

  
            His eyes are smiling gently.

            He’s so good to her.

 

**Disappointed**

            Mom sits down gingerly on one of the chairs, not speaking. She lays her crutches at her side. Delight, weeping in joy, kneels at her feet, clutching her scarred knees.

            “I thought I’d never see you again!”

            Mom is silent. Her dark eyes are stony, and she looks about the vault, face grim.

            “Mom,” Delight whispers through her tears. “Mom, say something? Please?”

            When Mom turns to look back at her, her eyes are cold with disappointment.

  
            “They say you’re his favourite,” she says flatly. “Do you love him?”

            “Yes,” Delight admits.

            “I thought I taught you better than that.”

 

**Argument**

            “He’s good to me,” Delight says. “He _loves_ me.”

            “He loves your _cunt_ ,” Mom snaps, and Delight recoils as if slapped. “Same as Rick. Same as the rest.”

            She looks at Delight’s belly and shakes her head. “And he’s using you as a breeder. I taught you better.”

            “He treats me better than you ever did!” Delight cries.

            “Does he?” Mom asks. “Look at my legs, Mint! Look at them! _That’s_ what they do after they say they love you!”

            Delight’s hands are shaking and she puts them to her ears. “He never _sold_ me,” she insists. “And He _won’t_!”

 

**Intervention**

            Miss Giddy takes Mom by the hand, squeezing hard. She leans in, putting her mouth to Mom’s ear.

            “Do you know what I’d give to see my daughter again?” she whispers. Her inked face is fierce, harsh. Delight has never seen her look like this before. “I’d certainly not lecture her, if I had that chance. No more of this. Who knows how long he’ll let you stay together?”

            Mom stares up at the old woman and goes quiet before looking down and away, like an ashamed child.

           In that moment she looks so young, even with her greying hair.

 

**Future**

            Joe takes the Twins that night. They leave hesitantly, their eyes cold and angry.

            Mom says nothing. She sleeps in Delight’s bed, arms around her waist. Delight feels like a little girl again, sleeping at her mother’s side under a vast expanse of stars.

            She doesn’t remember much of childhood beyond that, and fixing machines with grubby fingers, just like Mom taught her.

            Maybe she can work in the Garage, if He casts her out.

            When _He casts you out_.

            Delight’s hand goes to her pregnant stomach, once again growing full.

 _Not this time_ , she thinks. _This time, it’ll live._

 

**Dancer**

            Joe leaves Delight alone for a little while after Mom arrives, though He still sometimes has her dance. Mom watches from the corner. She doesn’t say a word to Joe. For the most part, He ignores her presence, apparently content that His wife is happy with her mother.

            One night, sitting quietly together, Mom says, “you’re…you’re a good dancer. You danced as a little girl, you know. Danced all down the roads. Couldn’t get you to stand still long enough to hold my tools for me.”

            Delight looks at her mother. Mom is smiling. She wraps her arms around her.

 

**Tag**

            “Remember Rick’s old dog tags?” Mom asks suddenly.

            _They glitter in starlight, swinging above her as Rick slams into her._

            “Yeah.”

            “Here,” Mom reaches into her pocket and pulls them out. “Kept them. Don’t know why.”

            Now that she can read, Delight sounds out the words stamped into the metal.

            “Richard Rupert.” She turns it over. “Main Force Pat…Patrol.”

            There’s a long silence between them, as she plays with the tags. Then there’s a spot of wet on her hands. And another.

            “Mom?”

            “I’m sorry,” Mom whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry I sold you to him. I’m your _mother_.”

 

**Fathers**

            “The man who cut my legs gave you to me. I was so young. Younger than you. And here you are, in the same situation.”

            “He loves me.”

            Mom shakes her head. Delight doesn’t know how to explain how He holds her, how He whispers such tenderness to her in ways that Rick never did.

            How He wants to give her babies.

            “They’re all the same,” Mom mutters. “And I let them have you, too.”

            Joe takes her that night. Mom watches as He leads her out, face broken. When she comes back to bed later, Mom holds her tight.


	19. Chapter 19

**Expectation**

            She keeps expecting the baby to go, just like the first. But it never does. It holds on, stays in her, jostling and wriggling. Her belly gets big, bigger than it did during her first pregnancy, and soon it’s hard for her to move around without back pain.

            “It’s going to be a boy,” Joe tells her. “Big and strong.”

            She doesn’t say anything to that. It doesn’t feel like a boy.

            She expects Mom to leave, too, but she never does. She sleeps in Delight’s bed, arms around her waist, just as she did when Delight was just Mint.

 

**Learning**

            Miss Giddy begins teaching Mom how to write during her free time. One day, Mom proudly limps to the board to write her own name in clumsy, big letters:

            _Amy_

            She turns and beams at Delight, and in that moment she looks young again.

            Delight puts her hands on her belly to feel the movements there.

            “Good job!” she says, and her heart swells.

            When she’s not learning letters, Mom’s with the Twins, drawing diagrams. She teaches them mechanics, righty-tighty lefty-loosey, gears and latches and locks. All three sit and whisper, and the Twins study long into the evening.

 

**Waiting**

            There’s a calendar on the wall. On it, each menstruation is diligently marked, each date of conception. The days are nicked off, one by one, until two hundred and seventy days have passed.

            “This week, probably,” the Mechanic tells Joe, and Joe squeezes Delight’s hand tight, eyes shining.

            A day passes, and then two, and then three. Delight’s feet are swollen and her back screams.

            And then, one morning, she wakes up and it feels like she’s wet the bed.

            “Mom,” she gasps, voice trembling. Mom doesn’t wake.

            The first contraction comes, and she cries out. This time, Mom wakes.

 

**Birth**

            She’s stripped of her lower linens and laid down on the Mechanic’s table, legs spread in the stirrups. She’s so exposed, but the contractions are coming closer and closer together, and it’s too painful for her to care any longer. Mom doesn’t leave her side.

            It seems to last hours. Joe paces like a caged beast, hovering over her and wringing His hands and barking at anyone who disturbs Him.

            And then, at last, the Mechanic yells: “Crowning!”

            “Just a few more pushes, baby,” Mom is whispering frantically in her ear.

            She strains. There’s a wail.

            Joe howls in rage.

 

**Fault**

            The little girl comes red and screaming into the world, lungs healthy and full of anger. Her face is screwed up in fury and her dark black hair sticks, slick with birth-fluid, to her head.

            She has no feet, and her little legs are twisted.

            Joe slams His sceptre so hard into a chair that it goes crashing across the floor and into the _impluvium_.

            “ _Your fault!_ ” He’s shouting at Mom. “You cursed her!”

            He jabs an accusing finger at her legs, her crutches.

            The Mechanic shakes his head, tongue clicking. He cuts the umbilical cord.

            The baby screams louder.

 

**Twisted**

            “Breathed your air, twisted it up!” Joe is frothing. His eyes are wild. “Made it a fucking _girl_!”

            Miss Giddy hands the Mechanic an old bit of sheet, and he shrugs, wrapping the child up. He doesn’t even wash her.

            “Let me hold her?” Delight whimpers, reaching out. He ignores her. She can’t sit up; it hurts too badly.

            Joe towers over Mom, screaming. She’s gone rigid, breathing shallow. Her eyes are looking at something none of them can see.

            “Out!” He bellows.

            He seizes the baby by her swaddling, shoves her into Mom’s arms.

            “Take this _thing_ with you!”

 

**No**

            Mom comes back when she sees her grandchild in her arms. Her eyes focus, and she looks over at Delight, sees her limp and weeping on the table.

            She looks up at Joe.

            “No,” she rasps out. “You can’t keep me from my daughter.”

            Joe grabs her and drags her to the door. Her crutches clatter to the stone and her legs give. He just keeps dragging, fists clenched.

  
            Delight can feel something else coming out of her, the afterbirth splashing down, but she drops off the table and throws herself at Joe. She’s screaming, but she doesn’t know what.

 

**Corrupt**

            The Vault door slams shut, Mom and the baby on the other side. Her daughter’s cries are still ringing in her ears, but Delight is howling too, fists pounding at Joe, nails clawing.

  
            He turns. His eyes are flame.

            There’s a crack of lightning in her head, and suddenly she’s sprawled on the floor and there’s blood dripping from her mouth.

            “Please,” she begs. She doesn’t stand. She doesn’t dare. Mom’s crutches, forgotten, lie beside her. “Please don’t take them. Please, my mom, my _baby_!”

            “I allowed _corruption_ in here because of _you_ ,” He hisses through His mask. “No more.”

 

**Aftermath**

            “One more chance,” He tells her before leaving. His breathing is ragged. His eyes are full of fury and disbelief and _hurt_ when He looks at her.

            The pain in Delight’s head pulses to the beat of the pain in her groin. She sits and stares at the closed vault door, trying to seal the image of her daughter's face in her mind. Tiny and screwed up and dark, angry red.

            “Come on, darling,” Miss Giddy is saying. “Let’s get you a bath.” Her voice is wavering, and when Delight looks, she sees tears wetting the words on her cheeks.


	20. Chapter 20

**Milk**

     Delight’s breasts swell with milk until it hurts. There is no child there to drain it.

     She has no name for her daughter. She can’t think of one.

     A couple days after the birth, Joe takes her to bed. Her cunt is searing with pain and her face throbs where bruises mottle it. He sucks the milk from her teats and then turns her on her face so that He doesn’t have to see her swollen cheek.

     The next day, the Mechanic brings a machine and hooks her up to it. She sits there, far away, until the milk drains.

 

**Cow**

     The machine stands in the corner and waits for her, day after day, whenever the milk comes back. And it does, day after day.

     “And what does the cow say, Rictus?” Joe says, His voice overly cheery, as Rictus helps the Mechanic gather the milk one day.

     “Says ‘moo!’” Rictus replies with a big, jokey grin, and Joe laughs, clapping him on the back.

     Delight remembers a picture of a cow in a book. It was big and docile, with huge, sad eyes.

     She doesn’t look at Joe, and she knows He’s not looking at her, either.

     Her cheek throbs.

 

**Again**

     The moon turns above, and the women get closer to their regular heat. One night, Delight wakes up to harsh, whispered voices.

     “ _Not_ going through this again,” Jedda keeps snarling.

     “It’ll be easier,” Jarrah keeps promising her.

     “I can’t. I can’t _do_ it anymore, Jarrah!”

     “Listen, we just need the one night. One last night with Him.”

     Jedda goes quiet. Delight thinks she can hear sobs.

     “You two,” Joe says a few nights later. He's not in the mood for entertainment; His eyes are burning.

     The Twins look up. Jedda shivers, but Jarrah grabs her hand and holds it tight.

 

_**Consolatio** _

     When they're gone, Kindest sinks down, weeping.

     “He doesn't want me anymore,” she sobs.

     “You are more than His desire,” Miss Giddy tells her fiercely – the same thing she's told Kindest time and time again. “Remember what I was reading you last week. Remember Pico: **'We have made you a creature neither of heaven nor of earth, neither mortal nor immortal, in order that you may, as the free and proud shaper of your own being, fashion yourself in the form you may prefer.'** That is _your_ power, not His.”

     Kindest just shakes her head, shoulders heaving. She cannot listen.

 

**Savior**

     Delight takes Kindest's hand and draws her to bed, tucking her in.

     “When I was twelve,” Kindest whispers as the tears subside, “my parents' caravan was ambushed by Buzzards. They were horrible, covered in filthy bandages. The men surrounded me. They began taking out their … and then suddenly I heard gunfire and _He_ was standing above me. He picked me up and He carried me to His car. Just like those old stories in the books.”

     She sniffles, wiping at her face. “He saved me. And now He doesn't want me anymore. I'll never give Him a healthy baby.”

 

**Alarm**

     They awaken to a long, mechanical howl. It's echoes over the quiet Citadel like a spirit.

     “Sirens,” Miss Giddy hisses. She shuffles to the windows, but there's no fire in the darkness, no rat-a-tat of guns.

     “What's going on?” Delight whispers.

     “I don't know. Get yourself dressed. Kindest, too. Just in case.”

     The three women are sitting in a huddle when they hear shouting outside the thick walls. It's distant, just barely discernible, but it's the sound of War Boys.

     The vault door opens with a creak, and in strides Rictus, looking exhausted.

     “Dad wants you!” he barks. “Follow me.”

 

**Trouble**

     The two young wives stand, clinging to one another, and shuffle towards him. Rictus holds up a hand, pointing at Miss Giddy. “Her, too!”

     The old woman looks at him in confusion, but she rises and limps forward with her walker. The girls move to her side, helping her walk.

     Rictus leads them downstairs, clearly impatient with how slowly the old woman moves.

     “Hurry!” he barks more than once at them, and they try, but progress is still slow compared to his long strides. All they can hear in the shadowed halls are his heavy footsteps and their gasping breaths.

 

**Fury**

     Rictus takes them down to the great hall where Joe makes His speeches. The Immortan is sitting on His stone bench, doubled over in pain, and Delight holds her breath when she sees that He's wrapped in bandages, covering a blood-soaked piece of gauze on His back, just left of His spine. The Mechanic stands nearby, cleaning his tools and putting away his stitching-thread.

     Joe looks up when the women are ushered in. His powdered face is a hideous mask of rage and pain.

     “You three,” He hisses, voice choked, “go to the balcony and tell me what you see.”

 

**Spotlight**

     Miss Giddy takes the first hesitant steps forward. The girls are pulled along with her like helpless, bewildered children. Delight feels like she's floating, but her grasp on Miss Giddy's arm keeps her present, and she clings to it.

     At first, they can't see anything but the glare of the spotlights through the darkness. The lights aren't pointed directly at them, but at a spot a few feet to their right. Kindest's eyes adjust first, and she lets out a horrible scream.

     Then Mint is able to make out two mangled bodies, hanging by their necks against the rock walls.

 

**Consequence**

     “Oh, no, no, no!” Miss Giddy is moaning, “No, Joe, what've you done? What've you _done_?”

     The Mechanic throws two especially long shards of coloured glass at their feet, and Mint knows them. They were sky and sand, cornerstones to swirling patterns she painted on the ground with broken bottles.

     They're covered in blood.

     “Those bints tried killing my poor dad!” Rictus snarls from beside Joe, a hand on the Immortan's shoulder. Joe says nothing; He just looks at them in silent rage.

     Kindest vomits off the side of the balcony, tears and mucus streaming down her face.

 

**Accusation**

     “You!” The Mechanic grabs Mint's face. “Did you know about this?”

     “ _No_!” she shrieks. She looks to Joe. “I didn't! _Please_ , Joe!”

     Joe's eyes are icy with suspicion.

     “They had plans on them,” He growls. “Diagrams about lockpicking. Your mother was a blackthumb, wasn't she?”

     Mint's mouth goes dry. “I didn't know about this. Please, Joe you _know_ I'd never! I love you!”

     Joe stands and comes to her, brushing the Mechanic aside. When He reaches for her face, she remembers pain, and she flinches. It doesn't deter Him; He cups her cheek, gazing deep into her eyes.

     “Do you?”

 

**Proof**

     “ _Do_ you love me, Delight?”

     Delight struggles to swallow, and nods. “ _Yes_.”

     “Prove it.” His fingers stroke her cheek.

     “I will,” she promises, and does it matter what she'll have to do? This is the second time that Joe has been harmed because of her. This is the second time she's caused Him disappointment and pain, even if she never meant to.

     “Good girl,” He tells her, but His voice is frigid.

     The spotlights are shut off, and in the darkness she can hear the Twins' bodies moving, pushed by a sickly wind to bump gently against the Citadel's walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for yet another very long-expected chapter. Life has been pretty rough lately, and it's been hard to focus on extra-curricular writing. We're in the final lap, so hopefully these chapters will get a little more regular now.
> 
> Excerpt is from Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, 'Oration on the Dignity of Man,' translated by A. Robert Caponigri.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts, especially after such a rough chapter.


	21. Chapter 21

**Decree**

            “Neither of you will be leaving this vault again,” Joe says. He’s delayed visiting them for several days since the Twins tried their escape. Now He stands tall and proud, Rictus at His side, just as imposing even with the bandages clearly visible beneath His armour.

            Kindest and Delight glance at each other. Where are they to lie with Him?

            As if reading their thoughts, Joe jerks His head towards the upper level where the Twins once slept. “That will be _my_ bed from now on, when _I_ come to visit you. No more excursions. No more little ‘dates’ outside.”

 

**Revoke**

            Joe regards both of them quietly, His eyes measuring them. Weighing their contents.

            “You.” He points to Kindest. “Upstairs. Let’s see if you’re worth another try.”

            Kindest flinches, but does as she’s told, head lowered as she climbs the stairs. He glances towards Delight, towards the little box of glass shards that she’s left sitting on the floor.

            “Rictus,” He says, “take that box away. Give it to the recyclers.”

            Then Joe follows Kindest, footsteps heavy on the stone.

            Delight sits downstairs, hands empty. All she can do is listen, twisting her sarong between her hands until her flesh burns.

 

**Remains**

            When Kindest comes back down, her face is still and flat, eyes far away. She has fresh bruises on her long, pale neck in the shape of bite-marks. Delight tries not to look.

            “Delight,” Joe calls from upstairs, and she jumps up from her seat, nearly running up the steps to where He lies, a big, pale shadow in the cool darkness of the upper room. The Twins’ few belongings are still scattered around; favourite books and hair-brushes. A pair of matching dolls lie, brushed aside, on the ground.

            Delight steps over them and crawls onto the bed with Joe.

 

**Limp**

            He welcomes her into His arms, but His hands are so still and His eyes are so cold. He’s looking through her, she realises, and she leans forward to kiss Him.

            He returns it, but it is passionless and stale.

            Mechanically He jerks at her linens, pulling them down and away to bare her sex.

            “Get me ready,” He orders, and she tries to obey, taking His cock first in her hand and then in her mouth, desperately working to get Him stiff again. But it’s no good; it remains small and soft even as she does all she knows.

 

**Failure**

             Joe fidgets, impatience growing as He waits on her.

            Nothing. Not a twitch. He lies limp in her mouth like a dead fish.

            “ _Fuck_ ,” Joe snarls, and shoves her off so hard she nearly tumbles from the bed. He doesn’t even look at her. Grabbing a sheet to cover Himself, He storms down the stairs. Moments later, she hears Him hollering for the Mechanic.

            Delight lies alone and waits, shivering and bare, on the Twins’ bed. Tears prick hot at the corners of her eyes, but she bites the inside of her cheek.

            The sheets still smell of the Twins.

 

**Restart**

            When Joe comes back up, He’s half-hard, and there’s a new light of determination in His eyes that sends chills through her.

            He doesn’t meet her gaze, doesn’t say a word. Instead, He just grabs a fistful of her hair and drags her head towards His cock.

            Her mouth is frantic on Him, trying to get Him completely hard on her own. She can feel her cheeks burning, eyes stinging, but she won’t let Him see the humiliation in her face.

            When He’s finally ready to take her, Joe pushes her roughly down onto the bed and thrusts in dry.

 

**Affection**

            He never looks at her as He pumps away. She tries to caress His soft cheek; He knocks her hand away. She tries to kiss Him; He pushes her head down against the pillow.

            His thrusting grows harder, and soon she can’t conceal her moans of pain; she is dry as the Wastes and He is a hammer.

            “Joe,” she chokes out. “Joe, I love you. I promise, I love you.”

            There is no reply. He comes.

            “Bear me a son,” He orders as He pulls out.

            And once again He leaves her, cold and alone on the double bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the long wait. Life has been chaotic and rough, and frankly, this fanfic is getting harder to write the darker it gets. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, and thanks, as always, for reading. I look forward to hearing what you guys think of the new developments as we open the third and final act of this story.


	22. Chapter 22

**Quiet**

            It’s so quiet now, with just the two of them and Miss Giddy. Kindest has always been quiet, but now she is mute. She only ever picks at her food, her cheekbones standing out thin and sharp through her skin.

            Delight has neither her mosaics nor her dancing – not as long as Kindest refuses to play piano. She retreats into the only place left: books. Her reading slowly begins to improve again, and she blazes through all the simplest books they have.

            Miss Giddy gives her a bigger book. It also has a train on the front.

            “Read,” she says.

 

**Orphans**

            “I’m tired of orphan stories,” she grumbles to the old woman after finishing the first couple of chapters. She can’t bring herself to feel much empathy for the little boy living under the stairs who always has food and as much water as he likes.

            “Most old children’s stories are about orphans,” Giddy says.

            “Who’d want to read about that?”

            “I suppose they thought it’d be more exciting.”

            Delight flings the book across the room.

            “You know better.” Miss Giddy’s voice is sad.

            Delight tries to stay angry, but she eventually goes over and picks up the book despite herself.

 

**Wizards**

            “Was it real?” Delight asks.

            “Which part?”

            “Hog..Hogwarts. Was there really a wizard school?”

            “No, no such thing.”

            “Then where did the wizards come from?”

            Miss Giddy looks at her, bewildered. “Child, there aren’t wizards. There never were.”

            Delight shakes her head. “I’ve met one. Mom sold her my hair when I was a little girl in exchange for some little medicine pills for headaches.”

            “That was just a snake-oiler. People are desperate for hope wherever they can find it.” Her eyes drift out the window, out to the War Boys working in the Garage and the Wretched teeming below.

 

**Memory**

            Things keep on that way: Kindest off in her head and Delight buried in books. Miss Giddy tries to fill the time with lessons, but the emptiness of the Vault still echoes around them. Sometimes, they manage to convince Kindest to play the piano, but Kindest only ever plays sad songs now, and Delight can’t dance to those. Her feet miss the movement, the energy.

            “Do you want me to dance for you?” she asks Joe one night.

            “Do you remember how?” He’s trying to joke, but she winces.

            “Yes.”

            “Let’s see it, then.” He cranks the little record player.

 

**Distracted**

            She tries. She really does. But her feet feel clumsy after so little practice, and she can’t seem to let go and float the way she once used to. When she glances over at Joe, His eyes are far away, not even looking at her. She gives up trying to do any teasing and instead just straddles Him, grinding to the rhythm.

            He puts His hands on her hips just like He always does, but His eyes stay far away, almost looking straight through her.

            “It’s so empty in here now,” He murmurs.

            His eyes are so sad and tired.

 

**Girls**

            The older girl is gangly from puberty, but her eyes are clear and blue, and her cheekbones sharp and regal. Her lips are full for one so young, and they’re trembling, but her eyes stay fierce and wary. The other one looks sullen and has a rounder face, but her hair is flame red. Delight can’t stop staring. She’s never seen hair like that before.

            The redhead keeps her eyes on the ground, but the tall one looks up, eyes darting attentively around the vault and all its treasures and books and water, water, water, enough to drink for days.

 

**Chattel**

            “Where did they come from?” she asks Miss Giddy in a whisper.

            The old woman’s lips are in a hard line. “Bartertown stock. Entity used to be against such things, but the flesh trade proved far too tempting. They kidnap little girls, or buy them, and keep them shut up and chaste. It’s a good price for virgins. Sometimes even higher if they’re too young to bleed.”

            Giddy’s eyes are full of disgust, but not for the girls that stand so quiet and grave.

            Joe’s blue eyes are electric, just as they were the first time He watched Delight dance.

 

**Eyes**

             Joe is eagerly showing the two new girls all He’s provided for their education, their comfort, their entertainment, and His shoulders are squared with pride. He circles around them, gesturing grandly, but He never moves far from them. His fingers brush through the redhead’s hair, but He can’t seem to take His eyes off the tall one.

            The older girl meets His gaze, and their eyes lock. His words slow, and then fade. There is no desire in the girl’s stare, no need; just something Delight hasn’t seen since Mab.

            It still thrusts a spike of jealousy through her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for how long this took. This spring was incredibly difficult for me in terms of mental, emotional, and physical health. I tried to write, but nothing seemed to come out. But now, the words are coming again. I think I'm healing.
> 
> Thank you all for hanging in there with me, and thank you for continuing to give me feedback and encouragement. Most of all, thank you for your patience.


	23. Chapter 23

**Beauty**

            The new girls are branded and wed. The eldest, Angharad, is bleeding already. The younger girl hasn’t. She doesn’t have a name, either. She says people just always called her ‘Red’. Joe wanted to buy her up quickly.

            “For my hair,” she grumbles.

            “Baseball cards,” Miss Giddy sighs. “He never changes.”

            “A ruby,” Joe says proudly.

            But Angharad is even more precious to Him. She doesn’t have remarkable hair, or even unusual eyes like Delight.

            Still, she’s beautiful.

            Even as a gangly teenager, she’s beautiful. There is something in her that’s almost regal, even with a face creased in pain.

 

**Greed**

            Red is sobbing. Angharad holds her hand, her lips barely trembling.

            And then He comes for her.

            He enters, dressed in loose white to match His treasures. His skin is suffering from a new outbreak of angry rash, and He cannot wear His armor. Still, His eyes are lit with hunger, His eager hands tense and ready to grab. There is already a bulge between His legs.

            “Joe,” Miss Giddy breathes. “Joe, please. Not here. Not in front of the young one.”

            He brushes past the frail old woman and advances on Angharad, who tenses but does not shrink away.

 

**Ascent**

            Red puts her arms around Angharad protectively, but it seems more for her own benefit.

            “Upstairs,” Joe rumbles, His voice thick and heavy.

            Angharad gently removes the other girl’s arms from around her shoulders and presses her lips to Red’s forehead.

            “No!” Red begs, but Angharad is already ascending the stairs, her breath coming quick and eyes brimming with unshed tears. She seems determined not to show any more fear than necessary.

            Joe follows.

            Red springs to her feet as if to chase after them, but Delight’s arms are quick; she catches her about the waist and holds her there.

 

**Harder**

            The girl rounds on Delight, eyes fierce with desperation and fury. “Let me go! Right now!”

            Delight just shakes her head.

            “Don’t make Him angry. It’ll only make things harder,” she tells her. She doesn’t know where it came from. She never even thought it before now, but she knows it’s true. She always has.

            It will always be true.

            Red turns and flees to the bedroom. She flings herself on a bed and buries her head in a pillow, shoulders shaking as she sobs. Delight can only watch her, trying to ignore the noises coming from the upstairs room.

 

**Bear**

            It’s not easy. She recognizes that voice – the voice He uses when he’s drowning in His own pleasure, when He can barely manage to speak. His groans, His gasps – she knows them all.

            She hears the weeping, too. Angharad cannot bear His hunger. Delight pities her, but something more poisonous unfurls in her core.

 _Why_ _her_ _?_ She is too weak to bear Him. But Delight always could. _Why not take someone who_ wants _it?_

            The other women are huddled in the bedrooms: Miss Giddy with Red, Kindest off alone like always. Only Delight sits waiting on that dark upper floor.

 

**Smitten**

            When Angharad finally comes downstairs, her body is covered in marks Delight recognizes. A little while later, Joe descends, looking sated and content. He exits the Vault without saying a word.

            Angharad is the subject of His attentions for days. It’s hard to listen to Miss Giddy or read or anything with Him hovering every free moment He has. He stares, caresses, calls her away suddenly in the middle of other activities. Even when Delight _knows_ that He has other obligations, other responsibilities, He is stealing time to come into the Vault and paw at His new prize.

            He’s smitten.

 

**Submission**

            And Angharad submits – or at least her body does. She bends to His touches and intrusive caresses and does not pull away when He strokes her hair or nuzzles the teeth of His mask against her neck. When He says her name, she rises and goes upstairs, fists clenched at her sides. After the first night, Delight hears no more weeping.

            But her eyes remain hard; something in her does not bow or bend. Not that He notices. So long as she willingly accepts His attentions, He seems not to notice the obvious: nothing in her agrees with His claims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse is struggling, but I'm hanging in there.
> 
> Another chapter is already written; I just have to transcribe and edit it. Keep an eye out!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big massive content warning for this chapter, which deals strongly with the themes of coercion, brainwashing, and rape.

**Envy**

            Delight and Kindest become ready the same time each month. And Joe, lovestruck as He is, keeps His calendar well.

            “Kindest,” He calls, and she seems to wake for the first time in days. She looks up at Him, hope and love shining from her weary face. When He beckons, she springs to her feet, following Him on twiggy legs up into the darkness.

            Delight just watches. She hasn’t been called first for ages. She feels Angharad’s eyes on her and turns her face away, not wanting the girl to see the envy there. It eats at her like hunger.

 

**Summons**

            “Delight!”

            She hears her name barked out in Joe’s thick, guttural voice, and she starts and looks up to the shrouded upper room. It’s only been a few minutes – or did she lose track of time? The looks on the Angharad and Red’s faces say that she hasn’t.

            She stands up slowly, looking at the other girls in confusion, but they just stare back at her. How should they know? They’re new, after all.

            Miss Giddy looks away, her knuckles white on her walker.

            “Delight, get up here!” He calls again.

            His patience is fraying; she hurries up the stairs.

 

**Reminder**

            Kindest is lying naked in the bed, her face to the wall. Her shoulders are trembling. Delight looks to Joe, who is perched on the edge of the bed, His eyes burning with a cold light. His fists are clenched, His cock limp.

            “Come here, girl,” He says icily. “I think you need to remind your sister-wife of how to serve me properly.”

            Her voice catches in her throat. She takes a step to leave, but her obedient feet carry her forward instead of back, and like a doll she kneels silently before Him and takes Him into her mouth.

 

**Choke**

            It’s a struggle not to breathe in the dust that He’s brought in with Him from the outside, but it fills up her nose along with the stench of stale sweat and rot.

            She should gag. She should pull away. Her body is His and not her own; she stays on her knees and sucks and licks and sucks again.

            “Watch,” she hears Him snarl at Kindest, and His voice is far away. From the corner of her eye, Delight sees Him yank Kindest’s head off the pillows by her hair.

            “Remember this?” He gives Kindest’s head a shake. “ _Remember?_ ”

 

**Remember**

            The other girl just continues weeping, silent. Delight flicks her eyes away, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. The sooner she does, the sooner all this is over. The sooner He’ll be happy and satisfied again, and He’ll leave Kindest alone. He’ll leave Kindest alone and remember how much He loves His Delight.

            Once He’s ready, He pushes Delight away. She makes a motion to leave, but Joe shoots her a look that freezes her in her tracks.

            His thick hand dips between Kindest’s legs, and comes away dry.

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Joe snarls under His breath.

 

**Kiss**

            He looks back up at Delight, mouth twisted in disgust.

            “Well?” He says when she doesn’t move. He jerks his head toward Kindest. “Get her ready, girl.”

            “How?” Delight asks. Her throat is so dry and she can barely form the word. She knows how. She knows. Her stomach won’t stop churning.

            Joe doesn’t bother to answer; His hand closes around her wrist and He yanks her onto the bed.

            Her heart is hammering as she looks down at Kindest. The other girl’s eyes are squeezed shut, so Delight just kisses her softly, the way she did so long ago.

            And then she begins.

 

**Sick**

            That night, Kindest sleeps in Miss Giddy’s bed. Delight lies alone, staring up into the darkness. She can hear Angharad and Red whispering together, but their words run together into an indistinguishable murmur, their heads beneath their quilt.

            Sickness churns in her stomach, but she doesn’t vomit. His seed is still drying on the inside of her thighs and her neck still aches where He pushed her into the mattress, grunting like a beast. Nobody looked at her when they were done, not even Joe.

            Without Him, she feels empty, and she can’t decide if that’s worse than the sickness.

 

**Finally**

            Kindest doesn’t bleed the next month, or the next month after that.

            “Maybe it finally worked,” she says as they wait for the Mechanic to arrive and examine her. Her eyes are soft and hollow as she puts an emaciated hand over her stomach.

            She remains still as the Mechanic paws at her, testing the weight of her breasts and the feeling of her womanhood and listening carefully to the inside of her stomach.

            “Congratulations,” he finally says to Joe, who stands quiet and patient beside him. “You’ve gotten one more outta this one.”

            Kindest bursts into loud, horrible sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm horrified by how long it took me to post this. Between the demands of my PhD and my own physical health, it's been a rough few months, and on top of it all, I have to admit I was procrastinating a lot in writing this chapter. I knew what was coming, and I didn't want to write it. Writing it made me feel quite ill myself, and I knew it would, so I avoided it for as long as possible. But no more excuses. This fic has taken far too long to publish, and I can't drop the ball this close to the end. Only a few more chapters remain in Mint's story.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and thanks even more for your patience. I'd love to hear your feedback, especially for a chapter as delicate and horrifying as this one.


	25. Chapter 25

**Watermelon**

            The watermelon is sticky on their fingers as they eat. Pink juice stains their white linens where it runs down their arms. Red devours the soft, delicate flesh greedily, licking at her lips and fingertips as she does.

            Angharad can’t mask how she savors it, but her bites are small and sparing. Her eyes occasionally flick towards Kindest, and her chewing slows.

            Kindest is hardly eating at all – even though it’s _her_ watermelon. She just sits and stares at her huge chunk, her moist eyes lost in the glistening pinkish-red. She doesn’t seem to have the energy to lift it.

 

**Distractions**

            “You need to eat, dear heart,” Miss Giddy murmurs.

            Kindest gives the old woman a shaky smile. Slowly but surely, she does. The empty plate slips from her shaking fingers when she lifts it, and everyone jumps as it shatters.

            “Oh, no,” Kindest mumbles apologetically, and kneels quickly to gather up the pieces. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I suppose I’m distracted.” No one says anything in response, but Red kneels to help Kindest scoop the rest up.

            “Ow!” she gasps, and drops a piece to look at her finger. Blood is mixing with the juices that cover her hands.

 

**Patience**

            In the following weeks, Joe continues to hover every second He can spare, making the excuse of looking after Kindest’s new pregnancy. In truth, He only looks after her belly. He feels it in His hands, murmuring praise over its growth, waiting with barely contained enthusiasm for signs of the quickening.

            “Patience,” the Mechanic advises Him, but He has never known patience.

            He never looks Kindest in the face anymore. His eyes, when they aren’t fastened on Angharad, watch that gently growing belly.

            The renewed hope gives Him renewed strength in the bedroom. He always calls Angharad to Him first.

 

**Greedy**

           The Immortan ruts with Angharad until she screams from pain, and that only seems to make Him treasure her more. Delight comes to Him afterwards, and hates herself for feeling relieved when He shows no signs of tiring. There is still, she thinks, some greed left in His heart for her. She feels it when He kisses her, His eyes never closing, just burning like fire into her. His fingers leave marks on her body again, like they used to, back in the beginning. She opens herself up to Him, spreads herself wide, begging to be bitten, eaten up, devoured.

 

**Pregnant**

            It happens one night, when she sits at the big windows, looking out into the wastes, her eyes straining. Something in her body whispers, and she knows: she’s with child again. Her third try, here already. Her cycle is still some time off, but she doesn’t need it to tell her. Her body simply knows.

            Somewhere, in the distance, she can hear a child wailing down among the Wretched. A sharp ache goes through her breasts.

            This time, however, she doesn’t tell Him. She watches how He gazes at Kindest’s belly and not her face, and she holds her tongue.

 

**Girl**

            If it comes right down to it, Delight can always pretend to be surprised by it later, when her cycle doesn’t return. He couldn’t possibly tell if she withholds the information for two or three weeks, could He?

            It’s an unexpected pleasure, the not-telling. It is something that only belongs to her, something quiet and private, where she can sit deep inside herself without anyone intruding. Just her and her baby.

            In her mind, it’s a girl with twisted, shrunken legs. A girl with wiry black hair and bright blue eyes. A girl with Mom’s voice.

            And it’s all hers.

           

**Window**

            She sits out on her own after bedtime more frequently. Kindest can’t stop weeping lately, and Delight can’t find the words to console her. It’s every night, now, she cries.

            She doesn’t know how to console Kindest now. Not after what happened.

            And, truthfully, the constant tears are beginning to grate on her.

            Mom always taught her it’s a waste of water, a waste of energy. Don’t weep when you could be fixing things instead.

            So she sits out by the window, trying to listen for a baby’s cry. A little baby girl, with a red face and twisted legs.

 

**Goodnight**

            One night she’s staring out, up at the sky, when she hears movement. She turns to see Kindest, padding softly out of their shared room. Kindest stands at the edge of the impluvium, and then sits, staring down at the rippling water in the starlight.

            Delight gets up to go to bed, her hand on her secret where it lies in her belly.

            “Mint?” Kindest asks as she passes.

            Delight clenches her jaw and stops to look back at her. “Yes?”

            The other girl doesn’t look at her – she just keeps staring down at the water. “Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight,” Delight replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the long wait. It's been one hell of a year.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another major trigger warning for this chapter.
> 
> And yes, two in one night - consider it an apology for so many delays.

**Pink**

            The next morning, she’s awakened by screams.

            “Don’t look!” Miss Giddy is saying. Too late. Kindest’s sandy hair spreads around her like a halo as she floats in pink water. A piece of shattered plate lies beside the impluvium, one sharp edge stained.

            Her eyes are closed, her face sad and soft. _She’s just sleeping_ , Delight thinks briefly. She looks at the other girls. Red is wailing. Angharad just holds her, eyes wet.

            _Why are_ you _crying?_ Delight wants to snap at Red. _You didn’t even know her. You barely spent any time with her. What gives you the right?_

 

**Stains**

            Instead she just stands there silently, looking down at the girl floating peacefully in the impluvium. She doesn’t know how long it takes, but soon the vault door clangs open and Joe bursts inside, eyes frantic and breathing harsh. When He sees Kindest’s body, He lets out a an inhuman bellow that abruptly brings Delight back to herself, and she steps back as He dashes forward. Water splashes out of the pool as He wades in, further staining the pool with His dirt encrusted boots.

           He scoops Kindest’s frail, empty body into His arms and wails like a wounded animal.

 

**Wretched**

            “Didn’t I give her everything?” Joe is sitting on the edge of the impluvium, the shard of plate in his big hands. Red and Angharad have retreated into the bedroom, but Delight sits by the windows. The water has been turned off and impluvium drained, and now some Wretched women, ankles shackled, are scrubbing it clean. They don’t even look up at the wonders around them; in Joe’s presence, their eyes stay lowered, and they work with frantic, desperate energy.

            Delight stares at their haggard faces, matted hair, tumours. Rough feet, hard as rocks, just like Delight’s used to be.

 

**Children**

            Delight feels the soles of her own feet. They’re soft and tender, as if she’d never been outside at all.

            “I loved her!” Joe bursts out, talking to everyone and no-one. His mask is removed, and tears have drawn lines down His white-powdered cheeks. “Why would she do this to me?” His face twists in a mixture of rage and agony and He squeezes the shard in His hand until blood drips from between His fingers.

            Delight goes to Him. She rips a length of fabric from her dress and wraps His hand, and He watches her like a child.

 

**Alone**

            That night, He takes her to bed, but He doesn’t fuck her. He just lies there, looking up at the ceiling. They’re hand in hand in the same bed where He took Delight and Kindest at once, but for some reason, the sheets still smell like the Twins. It never really wore off.

            _I’m alone_ , Delight realises. _They’ve all left me_.

            She squeezes Joe’s big hand, and nestles closer to Him, breathing in His scent of dust and machine oil and gun smoke and sickly-sweet death. He is warm and solid beside her, the touch of His ruined skin familiar.

 

**Explode**

            “When I was young,” Joe says, His ragged voice breaking the silence. “Back in the Oil Wars, a guy in my squad shot himself. The Chinese had cut us off from the main forces, and he thought we were done for. Put the gun barrel in his mouth and his head exploded like a melon. For some reason, that made me decide I wasn’t going to let ‘em take me.” He lets out a grim chuckle. “Slaughtered half a dozen before I realised I was covered in his brains.”

            Delight puts a hand on her belly.

            “Joe?”

            “Hm.”

            “I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters (and an epilogue) to go! Hang tight, kids! Thanks, as always, for reading.


	27. Chapter 27

**Insomnia**

            Delight barely sleeps; the baby keeps her awake. She lies in her bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant, muffled sounds of War Boys chanting as they rotate shifts. At least once every night, a long, animalistic wailing drifts up from the Wretched. As the nights crawl by, she realises that the wailer’s voice is never the same two nights in a row.

            When she does sleep, the dreams are a dark, confusing jumble. As if standing outside of herself, she can see the way she shivers and shudders and moans, her eyes moving rapidly beneath shut eyelids.

 

**Dreams, III**

            She dreams of pink water, of the soft thump of bodies against a sandstone wall. She dreams of wide swaths of open wasteland, brilliant orange under the sunset. And always, always, she dreams of a red-faced little girl screaming. When she wakes, her linens are wet with leaked milk.

            Nothing seems interesting anymore, not even reading. She can’t seem to make herself focus on Miss Giddy’s lessons. When it’s time for music, her voice is a low whisper – if she sings at all.

            “Dance for me,” Joe tells her one night. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you dance.”

 

**Weights**

            Delight stands and glances automatically toward the piano, but Kindest isn’t there. She looks back to Joe and opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Her feet are made of lead.

            Joe’s blue eyes flicker, but then He looks at her belly and His gaze softens. “You’re tired,” He murmurs, extending one big hand towards her. She takes it and lets Him draw her in close, and then she sinks into His lap, wrapping herself in Him like she’s wrapping herself in a familiar blanket. With a grunt, He stands and carries her into her little alcove.

 

**Alcove**

            “Your eyes are so hollow, my Delight,” Joe coos as He holds her close, like a mother with a newborn child. They’re sitting on her bed, in the warm square of sunlight that filters in through the tiny window. “What’s the matter?”

            “Nothing,” she assures Him, which is true. Nothing is the matter. She’s pregnant. He loves her again. Shouldn’t she be okay? “I just haven’t been sleeping well. That’s all.”

            Joe sighs and rocks her, rubbing her back. “It happens sometimes. It’ll be over soon. I promise.” One rough hand rubs her brown belly, leaving trails of white dust.

 

**Panic**

_The baby is screaming as it comes out of her, its face flushed and red. But then she sees the legs, and they’re twisted and gone and going on forever._

            Delight jolts awake. She sits up, rubs her eyes. In the dim lamplight, Red is shaking and weeping in Miss Giddy’s arms.

            “I can’t do it!” She begs. Her eyes are wide and far away and she’s gasping like she can’t breathe.

            “It’s barely a drop,” Miss Giddy assures her.

            “He’ll find out!” Her voice rises into a hysterical half-shriek.

            “He will if you keep screaming about it,” Delight says.

 

**Wounds**

            “I won’t say a word, child. _None_ of us will.” Miss Giddy stares straight at Delight. “It’s not the real thing. I promise.”

            Red keeps sucking in deep, heaving sobs that wrack her whole body. It takes ages, but when she does finally stop, sleep takes her almost instantly.

            “What happened?” Delight asks Miss Giddy as she pulls away Red’s underwear. In the centre is a single red dot, bright and accusing. A bullet wound on the white fabric.

            “Thank God it’s small enough to wash away without a stain,” she says. “He doesn’t need to know. Agreed?”

            Mint nods.

 

**Haunt**

            The next morning, Red’s eyes are haunted, but she isn’t weeping any longer. Her underwear, scrubbed clean white in the impluvium, is dried out within the first few minutes of sunlight. Her leg bounces as if her nerves are too alive.

            Mint watches her, looking for any signs of breakage. She missed them when Kindest broke, and the next thing she knew, Kindest was gone. Floating peaceful in a pink pool.

 _I can still feel her_ , she thinks aimlessly, _she’s floating right behind me._

            Kindest is waiting for her. Like an angel. Like a curse. Waiting for all of them.

 

**Fragile**

            Mint takes to watching both girls like a hawk, recording every sign in her memory like a checklist. They’re too fragile, like glass waiting to shatter. Too soft and paper-thin. Soon, Angharad’s shiny steel resolve will crumble, just like the rest. Red will follow as soon as her blood is regular. And Delight will be alone again, the only one strong enough to survive Him.

 _Look at you_ , Kindest – no, _Mom_ – whispers in her ear. _You call this survival?_

            The voice is right behind her, so clear she turns to look. Nothing; an empty bed and a warm, sunlit wall.

 

**Here**

            She’s looking out the window when her water breaks. It comes spilling out between her legs and soaks the stone bench. She says nothing; just sits in the wet and looks out the window. If she ignores it long enough, the baby won’t come.

            The pain of the contractions soon makes that impossible. In the distance she can hear Miss Giddy calling for Joe and the Mechanic. A hand wraps around Mint’s, squeezes tight.

            “I’m here for you. I’m right here.”

            Mint looks up, and for a moment, she sees Kindest. But no, Kindest’s face was rounder and softer.

            “Angharad.”

 

**Perfect**

            Angharad sits with her for all of it, her eyes locked on Mint’s, hands clenched tight. Even when Joe arrives to witness the birth of His child, the two of them to not break contact. Mint’s nails dig into the other girl’s skin as her body heaves out the child, but Angharad doesn’t even flinch.

            “One more push, pretty,” the Mechanic is saying in the distance. Mint screams.

            A baby cries. Mint looks away from Angharad in panic. But there they are: two tiny feet, pink and healthy.

            “Congratulations, Immortan,” the Mechanic murmurs. “It’s a boy. It’s a healthy boy.”


End file.
